


The Real World: Skyhold

by ArchangelEquinox



Series: Lights, Camera, Inquisition [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Reality Show, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Modern Thedas, Reality TV, Skyhold, Slow Burn, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Unresolved Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-24
Updated: 2018-04-19
Packaged: 2018-05-23 02:03:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 131,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6101191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArchangelEquinox/pseuds/ArchangelEquinox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When her twin brother William jokingly sent in her application to a reality show, Talia didn't give it a second thought.  They’ll never choose me, she reasoned.  But it wasn’t a joke, and suddenly Talia found herself as the final participant for The Real World: Skyhold.  	 </p><p>When Cassandra applied to be on a reality show, Cullen never imagined he’d end up on it too.  But he couldn’t let his best friend face 3 months in Val Royeaux alone, and suddenly he found that he too was a participant on the latest TV trend to hit Thedas.  </p><p>Three months in Val Royeaux, living in a house with eight other people: What could go wrong?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I know I tagged this as "Female Inquisitor" but it's really just my Inquisitor character from my series Once More to the Breach. This isn't an adaptation of Inquisition, just me playing in the Bioware character sandbox. 
> 
> Enjoy, and thanks for reading!

            “Everyone ready? The cameras start rolling in less than five minutes!”  Josephine skimmed her hands over her dress, smoothing imaginary wrinkles from the golden fabric. 

            “Almost there,” Leliana said, her eyes scanning quickly over the checklist before her.  Usually those last-minute details would have been Josephine’s forte, but since she was their host, the task had fallen to Leliana.  “Our participants have arrived, and our technicians are finishing the last round of camera and microphone checks in prep for the opening events.” 

            From behind the studio camera, the show’s legal counsel, Solas, spoke up.  “All waivers from participants have been signed and notarized, and we have all rights to any and all film and audio produced hereafter.”  He reached up and straightened his pale green tie.  “Our protections are ironclad.  We are ready to begin.”  One hand ran briefly over his bald head, the only indication of nerves for the otherwise stoic elf. 

            “I agree,” Leliana said.  She crossed her hands over the clipboard and turned to Josephine.  “Are you ready?” 

            The producer and host looked nervous.  “Are you sure? Perhaps I should look things over.”  She started toward the ratings director, but the slender woman held up her hand and Josephine froze. 

            “Josie, please,” Leliana said gently.  “We have done everything possible to prepare.”  She stepped closer, just inside the camera’s visibility, and touched Josephine’s shoulder.  “We are ready.” 

            Josephine nodded quickly.  A blush spread across her cheeks, and she patted nervously at the dark curls piled high on her head.  “You’re right,” she admitted.  “I’m just nervous.” 

            Leliana smiled to herself as she stepped back, taking up her place beside Solas.  “You’ll be great,” she assured her.  “You are a born host.  All that’s different now is who you are hosting.” 

            “The first major reality TV show in Thedas,” she laughed.  “No big deal.” 

            Solas moved as if to speak, but Leliana grabbed his arm, stopping him.  “That’s right.  Now, do you remember your opening lines?” 

            Josephine closed her eyes for a moment against the harsh studio lights.  She took a deep breath, centering herself, before reciting her lines quietly to herself.  When she opened her eyes, she saw Leliana smiling at her.  “I’m ready,” she said.  “How’s my hair?” 

            “Lovely, Josie,” Leliana said.  She exchanged a look with the studio cameraman, and he nodded.  “We’re on in less than 30 seconds now.  Last moment checks?”  The cameraman shook his head and gestured to the television screen set up behind Josephine. 

            “We’re green across the board,” he said.  “Looks like the house is ready too.”  The TV showed a buzz of activity just outside Skyhold, the enormous estate they’d chosen to house the participants in their new reality show.  Participants had arrived that morning to sign the last of the paperwork and get mic’ed up, and they had been milling about, few chatting but all looking a little nervous with their suitcases and other personal belongings hanging off them.  Technicians ran around making last-minute camera adjustments, and other staff members gently herded the participants toward the looming wrought-iron gate. 

            “Countdown in ten,” the studio cameraman said, and Leliana flashed Josephine a thumbs up. 

            “We’re ready to go,” she said, and Josephine couldn’t help her nervous smile.   

            “Count me down,” she replied.  She straightened her spine, falling into the regal posture she found so comforting, and folded her hands in front of her. 

            Leliana nodded, watching the cameraman for her cue.  “Five, four, three…”  she held up two fingers, then one, and the red “TAPING” light turned on overhead.  

            Josephine flashed the camera a brilliant smile.  “Hello,” she began, her nerves gone.  “And welcome to The Real World: Skyhold.” 

\---

            Talia dumped her neatly labeled suitcase just in front of the gates. Taking a deep breath, she stretched her arms above her head and tried to get a good look at the house that was to be her home for the next three months.   It was hard to see from the end of the driveway, but it looked enormous, its decorative façade rising toward the pale blue sky.  The producers must have bought it from some wealthy Orlesian family -- the twin lion statues at the foot of the enormous staircase were a dead giveaway that this was not some sturdy castle but instead a house built for entertainment and leisure. 

            Despite the warmth of this late spring day, Talia shivered.  She'd lived in Val Royeaux for years, but she still hadn't gotten used to the Orlesian preference for gilding and masks, and this house looked like the embodiment of that culture. 

            The grounds before the mansion were welcoming though, all lush green grass and towering trees.  Bushes covered with elaborate flowers lined the perfectly manicured gardens, and she found herself hoping there were roses and crystal grace so it would at least smell like home. 

            She'd pushed herself all the way up against the high wrought-iron fence that surrounded this place, her hands gripping the bars so she could get a better look, when someone behind her cleared their throat.  She spun around. 

            A tall man with the most ridiculous twirling mustache she'd ever seen stood behind her.  His tawny suit jacket was unbuttoned, revealing a gray v-neck t-shirt over a pair of weathered jeans.  One hand tugged down his sunglasses to give her an appraising look, a smile creeping across his features. 

            "I was coming to have a look at our estate," he began. "But I see the view is much better with you in front of it."      

            Talia's eyebrows rose into her dark hair.  "Excuse me?" 

            The man pushed his sunglasses up into his perfectly coifed black hair, revealing a pair of twinkling blue gray eyes.  "I did not mean to insult," he said, and with a flourish, he performed an elaborate bow, one hand extended toward her as if she were royalty.  "Dorian Pavus, at your service." 

            Talia glanced around nervously, wondering who this stranger was performing for.  "Are the cameras on already? I thought we'd have some warning," she asked, her voice nearly squeaking with her sudden anxiety. 

            Dorian straightened before her, one hand brushing over his outfit.  Talia noticed an enormous silver skull ring on one finger.  "Goodness no," he assured her.  "But I am always this fabulous, darling, and you must get used to that."  He winked. 

            Talia stared. 

            The man rolled his eyes and stepped past her to look at their new home.  "Really, I just thought I'd join you.  I haven't yet seen Skyhold, and any minute we're to be ushered into its depths for months.  It seemed only proper to have a look first."  He glanced at her over one shoulder.  "Plus, you looked lonely over here, so separate from the crowd.  I thought I'd keep you company." 

            Talia still stared.  "I'm so confused right now," she muttered. 

            Dorian turned back, pushing the sleeves of his blazer up his arms as he did.  "Shall we start again?"  He held out his hand and smiled once more.  "Dorian Pavus.  I'm to be one of your new roommates." 

            "Talia Trevelyan," she answered, extending her hand as she wrapped her mind around the reality of his statement.  She'd agreed to be a participant on this new show weeks ago, but it was now sinking in that in only a few minutes, she'd be getting a host of roommates and expected to survive with them for three months in one house. 

            She gave herself a mental shake and tried to smile back.  "I'm sorry," she said.  "This is all a little shocking to me still."  She pumped Dorian's hand several times too many, but he just chuckled. 

            "I absolutely understand, darling," he said.  He gestured toward the crowd of people behind them, and Talia saw the Tevinter dragon tattooed on the inside of his tanned forearm.  "Have you met our other roommates?" 

            "Not yet," she said, surveying them.  Despite the crowd, it was easy to tell who was a participant and who was staff.  The staff members all moved with purpose -- attaching mics, straightening collars and cuffs, testing equipment -- while the participants mostly milled about awkwardly, few speaking and even fewer looking happy about their current situation. 

            She studied the participants for a moment.  An older man with a dark beard was glaring at the petite technician fitting him with a mic.  Beside him, a slender blonde elf bounced on the balls of her feet, the hem of her red tunic fluttering against her plaidweave leggings with each movement.  She was talking excitedly to a gigantic qunari wearing a wife beater and black jeans tucked into his combat boots.  He was head and shoulders taller than the elf, but that didn't seem to bother her as she reached up to touch his horns, inspiring a laugh like rolling thunder on the horizon.

            A few steps away stood an elegant woman with dark skin wearing an expensive-looking white dress.  She was typing away at her phone, her long nails probably clicking with each letter as she worked.  Like Dorian, she wore an enormous pair of sunglasses, though hers were rimmed with gold that matched the hoops in her ears.  A dwarf stood near her, his long hair tied back and his unbuttoned shirt revealing a surprising amount of chest hair.  His arms were crossed as he studied the other participants, and Talia found herself uncrossing her own arms so she didn’t look as annoyed as he did. 

            Talia scanned around the crowd for the other participants.  Nine of them had agreed to this little adventure, yet including herself and Dorian, she only counted seven.  Where were the other two?

            Another moment or two of searching and she spotted them all the way at the back of the crowd, the furthest people from the gates leading into Skyhold.  One, a tall, severe-looking woman with close-cropped hair, was gesturing and talking, while the other, an even taller blonde man in a white button-down, stood silently by, his intense gaze turned toward the gates -- and toward Talia, though she quickly looked away so they wouldn't catch her staring. 

            She'd meet all of them soon enough; they didn't need to think she was strange before they'd even met her. 

            Talia glanced around for Dorian only to find him taking a selfie with the iron gates of Skyhold.  She couldn't help her chuckle, and Dorian looked over before gesturing for her to join him. 

            "I'm good, thanks," she laughed, but he wasn't taking no for an answer. 

            "Come now," he demanded, walking over and grabbing her arm.  "We must document this momentous occasion!" 

            "What occasion," she asked as she stumbled along behind him. 

            "The start of our friendship, of course," he said, his voice suggested that this was entirely too obvious to need explanation. 

            "That's great and all, but I don't like being in pictures." 

            Dorian paused and looked up from playing with the camera settings on his phone.  "I'm sorry," he began. "Did you just say you don't like being in pictures?" 

            Talia blushed and ran a hand through her hair.  "Well, yes," she admitted, not making eye contact. 

            Dorian stepped very close to her, much too close for the strangers they actually were, probably too close even for the friends he'd labeled them.  "Talia, my dear," he said seriously, putting a hand on her shoulder.  "We are about to be reality TV stars.  We'll be on camera 24 hours a day, minus rest stops.  How do you plan on accomplishing this if you don't like taking pictures?" 

            She pondered this for a moment, her eyes drifting away from Dorian's serious face and instead roving over the other participants again.  Most were still just standing about, though the staff moved more urgently than before.  When she glanced at the man who had been staring so unhappily at the gates before, she found that he hadn't looked away.  Their eyes met for the briefest of moments, and a jolt of adrenaline rushed through her, like she'd been caught doing something she shouldn't.  She looked away and inadvertently looked right back at Dorian. 

            He fluttered his fingers at her in a rather effeminate wave.  "Thank you for joining me," he teased.  "Now, my question…" 

            "I don't know, Dorian," Talia groaned.  She rubbed her forehead briefly.  "My brother signed me up for this as a joke, I didn't think I'd get picked!" 

            "And now here you are," he chirped.  He positioned himself at her side and lifted his phone.  "Smile, dear.  Now's the time to overcome that hate of pictures and go for it."  He flashed her a smile and turned to the camera. 

            Talia took a deep breath.  She had no idea how this total stranger had pinpointed her exact discomfort in such a short time, nor did she have a clue as to how he'd made overcoming it sound so simple.  But taking a picture and enjoying it suddenly did sound simple, and just as a real smile slide over her face, the camera flashed. 

            "Look how lovely you are," Dorian told her, flipping through the tiles to find their selfie.  "Absolutely stunning.  Now," He tucked the phone away and, with a flourish, replaced his sunglasses over his eyes.  "Shall we join the group?" 

            She glanced over again and saw the technicians herding everyone toward them, toward the gates.  "Ten minutes to taping," one shouted, and she cringed.  This was it -- in the next few minutes, she'd be meeting her new housemates, and within an hour, she'd be probably be playing some ridiculous icebreaker game so she could figure out who she'd like, and who she could merely tolerate. 

            Beside her, Dorian looked positively gleeful.  "Look at the muscles on that one," he muttered, once again tugging down his sunglasses to turn his appraising eye on the approaching group. 

            "Which one," she asked without thinking, but she missed the smirk that crossed Dorian's face.  Instead she was trying to figure out who he was looking at -- all seven of the other participants were coming towards them, but so were about a dozen staff members and technicians. 

            "Him," he replied, gesturing, but that didn't help.  Between the glare of sunlight and the mass of people, she had no idea. 

            "Tell me later?"  She asked just as the group reached them, the staff members urging the participants into two lines.  Dorian didn't answer, only wiggled his eyebrows at her as he was moved into the back row with the other men.  Suddenly Talia found herself between the elf she'd noticed earlier and the woman in the dress.  She was still on her phone, and didn't look up even when a staff member guided her into place in the line.  Talia was wondering if she'd be allowed to keep it when a staff member whistled.  Most of the techs stepped away, leaving only a dwarven woman with a set of elaborate braids before them. 

            "Listen up," she shouted, and the participants stilled.  "I'm Lace Harding, and I'm the head tech for the house.   I know you're all nervous" -- Talia heard Dorian snort behind her -- "But we're about ready to go, so I want to review a few things very quickly."  She started rattling off rules, reminding them for about the hundredth time that they were on camera at all times unless using the bathroom or showering.  Talia remembered how the show's legal counsel, a serious elf in a crisp suit, had even made her sign something that stipulated how many times they'd reviewed the filming rules with her. 

            _Can't hurt to be reminded one last time_ , she thought.  Harding was still talking, so she couldn't have missed much.  Quickly the tech listed some of the house activities, like game nights and trips into Val Royeaux, they'd be participating in over the next few months, and she assured them that if something went wrong, she and her fellow technicians would be there within minutes to take care of things. 

            "What might go wrong," asked the woman beside Talia, her phone finally less interesting than the person speaking before them. 

            "We don't anticipate much," Lace assured her.  "But should the washing machine break, a light bulb go out, that kind of thing -- we'll be there to take care of it."  She gave them a huge smile, the corners of her eyes crinkling.  "We won't leave you high and dry, don't worry."  The woman beside Talia shrugged and went back to her phone.  Behind her, Talia could hear one of the men mutter about replacing light bulbs themselves, and she couldn't help but smile. 

            Harding listed off a few other minor details before another tech produced a set of envelopes and pens.  "Your phones will need to go in these," she explained, passing them out.  "We'll give them back when filming is over.  You each get one un-monitored phone call per week to the person you designated during your legal consultation.  Otherwise, no outside contact is permitted." 

            Talia remembered that part too.  She'd listed her brother Will on her form, figuring that since he got her into this mess, he should have to listen to her bitch about it.  She fished her phone out of her purse in time for the elf next to her to pass her an envelope. 

            "Exciting, innit," the woman giggled.  Her short blond hair was spiked and messy, but her enormous smile was friendly and honest.  Talia smiled back. 

            "I hope so," she said, tucking her phone into the envelope. 

            "Come on," the elf said, elbowing her.  "It'll be fun! All sorts of adventures, you know."  She scrawled her name across her envelope, and Talia could just barely read her writing: Sera. She didn't answer, wondering if she could ever see this as an adventure.    

            A phone-less adventure, though.  The technicians swarmed over them, taking envelopes and sealing them before scurrying away.  There was a brief altercation with the woman in the expensive dress, as she didn't want to give up her phone, but that was soon solved.  The woman didn't look happy though, crossing her arms and glaring daggers at the tech. 

            "Two minutes to taping," a staff woman said to Harding, and the head tech clapped her hands. 

            "All right, now that that's done," she said.  "We can get started!  Josephine will talk you in -- she's our host -- and the first time you'll do is go through the gates and up to the house.  Once there, go inside and find your rooms.  They've already been assigned, so no worries.  After that, you have about fifteen minutes to get settled and then there's lunch in the main lounge area." 

            "Is all our time scheduled," growled the older guy from the back row.  Talia was pretty sure he was the same one who had complained about the light bulbs. 

            "Other than today and the events, no," Harding answered.  "There's a pool party and a barbeque tonight, and after that you're on your own! Daily events, if any, will be posted on the fridge each morning.  Just don't forget the cameras are always on!"  She winked at them.  "Any last minute questions?" 

            Talia had about a dozen.  Who was her roommate?  What if she didn't like her -- or him?  They wouldn’t make her room with a guy, right?  What if she didn't get along with someone?  What if the kitchen caught on fire when she tried to cook? What if she'd forgotten something, like a toothbrush or her swimsuit?  What if --

            Her thoughts were interrupted by Harding once again.  "If no one has anything…"  she glanced around one last time before giving them a wave.  "Have fun then! And good luck!"  She stepped away, her hand already on her headset to report they were ready to go, and suddenly all nine participants were standing alone before the gates to their new home. 

            They all glanced nervously at each other before the qunari spoke from the back of the group.  "Here goes nothing," he intoned, his deep bass voice vibrating through Talia's chest. 

            From Sera's other side, the dwarf with the chest hair leaned out and spoke.  "Good luck, everyone," he said, chuckling.  The woman with the close-cropped hair made a disgusted noise, and Talia glanced back, catching Dorian's eye.  He winked at her and flashed her a smile. 

            "We'll be great," he said.  Talia was about to answer when a far too cheerful voice boomed out of a television screen set up about ten yards in front of them. 

            "Hello," the voice said.  A gentle Antivan accent washed over her, and suddenly Talia felt much better about this whole mess.  She, along with the rest of the participants, turned toward the screen.  "And welcome to The Real World: Skyhold." 


	2. Chapter 2

            "I'm sorry," sniffed Vivienne, the woman with the phone and the dress.  "You want me to what?" 

            The elf, Sera, tossed the beach ball up in the air and caught it, laughing.  "It's an icebreaker," she explained.  "You toss this around an’ people catch it.  Whatever question is closest to their right thumb, that's the one they answer."  To illustrate, she tossed the ball up again and caught it.  "See, my thumb is on the one that says ‘What do you do for a living,’ so I say I'm a baker, an’ then I toss it to someone else."  She threw it at Vivenne, who flinched and did not catch it. 

            "I have no interest in this," she stated, one eye brow arching toward her bald head. 

            Talia watched this scene unfold from her position on the couch.   Thus far, being trapped with these people hadn't been that bad.  Almost everyone had rushed off to see who they were rooming with the second Josephine dismissed them into the house, leaving Talia and the intense man in the button down at the gates to the house.  He'd offered her a small smile, a scar quirking the corner of his mouth, before offering to carry her suitcase.  His Fereldan accent almost made her swoon, so much so that she didn’t really heard what he asked.  Just in time she'd remembered her manners and thanked him for the offer even as she hefted her bag, embarrassed.  He'd shrugged, and they'd walked up the long gravel driveway together in silence. 

            Throughout the whole walk, he'd seemed anxious.  Talia didn't know what to make of that, other than to think that perhaps he'd been tricked into this mishap like she had. 

            Once inside, Talia headed down the hallway to the bedrooms.  Cassandra, the severe-looking woman with the short hair, was already in their shared room, unpacking her suitcase with careful precision.  She had taken the bed by the door but opened the window, and a springtime breeze was rolling through their quarters. 

            "Do you mind?"  She asked when Talia walked in, gesturing to the open window.  "I don’t mind sharing space, but I hate feeling claustrophobic." 

            "No problem."  The two women had unpacked a little in silence, neither sure how to start a conversation, and then a bell had rung throughout the house for lunch. 

            The kitchen had been laid out with a simple but filling lunch of cold cuts, raw veggies, fruit, and cookies, the perfect easy meal to allow for the new housemates to pass things around and interact. 

            They hadn't really cooperated. 

            Slowly a conversation had started, mostly about jobs and where everyone was from.  Cassandra was from Nevarra but worked as a cop in Kirkwall, and it turned out that she and the blonde man Talia had walked in with -- Cullen -- were friends.  Cassandra had encouraged him to apply to the show, and he hadn't expected to get picked, a scenario Talia found utterly relatable.  She had offered him a smile of sympathy from across the kitchen, but he'd blushed and looked away. 

            The woman in the expensive dress was Vivienne, and she kept those gold-rimmed sunglasses on even in the house, complaining of the harsh fluorescent lights.  She was apparently a well-known professor of magic at Montsimmard University, though Talia wouldn't have been surprised if she'd said she was a fashion designer.   She had the attitude for it.  The older man sitting nearest her was Gordon Blackwall, a craftsman who specialized in woodworking and furniture.  He too was reserved, as though he didn't want to call attention to himself. 

            The dwarf sitting opposite him had no such reservations, loudly announcing himself to be Varric Tethras, renowned author of the Hard in Hightown series and companion to Marian Hawke, the most famous mercenary in Kirkwall.  Cullen had snorted at this statement but said nothing, and Varric ignored him. 

            Not wanting to be out of the limelight, Dorian introduced himself next.  With the same flourish of a bow he'd given Talia, he announced himself as one of the lead engineers at Alexius Engineering, a company that specialized in utilizing magic in new inventions.  Sera, the elf Talia had been next to in line, stepped up next.  She was a baker in Val Royeaux, where she and her girlfriend ran Red Jenny's Bakery and Coffee House. 

            That left Talia and the qunari, who turned out to be The Iron Bull, a bodyguard for hire.  His company, the Chargers, operated throughout Ferelden and the Free Marches, and Talia piped up that she'd heard of him several times as the bodyguard for various celebrities.  That turned the group's attention to her, and she quickly explained that though she was from Ostwick, she lived in Val Royeaux and worked as a pop culture magazine reporter. 

            "You're paparazzi?" The Iron Bull asked, and she blushed. 

            "Not really.  I don't take pictures or chase celebs.  I mostly write fluff pieces about the stuff they do," she explained.  Varric suggested they compare writing techniques, while Dorian and (surprisingly) Cassandra both asked if she knew anything good she could pass on. 

            "Sadly, no," she said.  The conversation had lapsed into silence then, everyone munching their sandwiches and -- if they were anything like Talia -- pondering what they'd just learned.  It was an odd group to be living together, but she figured that was rather the point.  Not much of a reality show if there wasn't a little conflict, right? 

            Apparently Sera wasn't well equipped to handle long silences -- after about three minutes of people staring at each other, she'd leapt up and demanded they move into the house's enormous living room.  They dutifully followed her, bring drinks and settling onto the limited number of couches and chairs that circled the room.  There were just enough seats that most of them had to share -- Cassandra and Cullen wedged onto a loveseat, Bull in an enormous armchair, Varric, Dorian, and Blackwall on the couch, Vivienne in a chair from the kitchen, and Sera on the ottoman in the middle.  Talia managed to get the smaller armchair for herself, her feet up on the coffee table. 

            Once everyone was settled, Sera produced the beach ball that was now rolling listlessly away from Vivienne's feet. 

            "Come on," she insisted.   "Let's play!" 

            Varric got up and grabbed the ball.  "Catch," he said, tossing it toward the rest of the group, and The Iron Bull caught it.   

            "What's the worst thing you ever tasted," he read from under his thumb.  "And did you swallow it or spit it--"  He started laughing and tried to choke out an answer.  "Well, there was this one guy I met in Antiva  about five years ago, and his junk was just the _worst_ \--"  Most of the group started laughing at that, and Iron Bull tossed the ball back to Varric. 

            "What is one item you really should have thrown away by now," Varric read off, and cringed.  "Oh, bad old poetry, for sure.  Nothing worse for a successful writer to have lying around."  He laughed and tossed it to Blackwall. 

            The older man caught it easily, but fumbled around to figure out which question to answer.  "If you were stranded on a desert island, what item would you bring with you?"  He glanced up at the rest of the group.  "That's easy, a boat."  They laughed, all but Vivienne, but Blackwall just looked confused.  "What? That's what I'd bring!" 

            "Okay, next!" Sera shouted, and Blackwall tossed the ball to Cassandra, still looking perplexed. 

            "If you were going to treat yourself, what would you do?"  She read, and sighed.  "Ooo, I'd get a massage," she said, her eyes closing in imaginary pleasure.  "I never get those." 

            "I can do that for you," Iron Bull volunteered, and Cassandra's eyes shot open. 

            "Not on your life, Bull," she grumbled, inspiring that thunderous laugh from the qunari. 

            "I wouldn't mind," Dorian quipped, sending Iron Bull a saucy wink as he took a sip from his lemonade. 

            "Goodness," Cassandra interrupted before it could get worse.  She tossed the ball straight up and bopped it to the man sitting next to her. 

            Cullen caught it easily.  "Same question as Cass," he said carefully, not looking at the group.  "And I usually go to court on my days off.  Or the gym." 

            "That's so boring!" Sera howled, throwing herself back on the ottoman where she was perched.  "Next!"  Cullen just shrugged and tossed it into the middle of the group.  It bounced once on the coffee table before Dorian snagged it. 

            "What is the first thing you do when you get out of bed," he read, a grin spreading across his face.  "That's easy! Check the attractiveness of the person next to me!"  The group laughed, a snort coming from Cassandra's direction, and Dorian turned to her.  "How about you, gorgeous?" 

            "Calisthenics," she forced out between snorts, and the group laughed harder. 

            "No way!" Iron Bull insisted, but beside Cassandra, Cullen nodded.  "Every morning," he confirmed solemnly.  Talia tried not to look too alarmed; if she was awake before nine, everyone in the house would suffer.  Hopefully Cassandra did her exercise outside. 

            Dorian must have realized that Talia hadn't talked yet, because he hurled the beach ball at her.  She caught it, barely, it bouncing from her grip once before she managed to hug it against her chest. 

            "Um…"  She trailed off, trying to find where her thumb was touching.  "Oh! If you could change one thing about your appearance, what would it be? Well…" 

            "Come on," Sera grumbled, kicking her legs like a child.  Dorian shot her a dirty look. 

            "I think it'd have to be my ears," she said finally, smiling. 

            Sera sat up and pounced on the chair where Talia was sitting, sticking her face far too close to Talia's.  "Those are hidden by your hair!"  She shouted, and Talia laughed. 

            "Why's that mean I can't like them?" 

            Sera shrugged, rearranging herself so they were sharing the chair.  "I'd want bigger boobs," she announced, looking down at her own. 

            "I wouldn't change a thing about my appearance," Dorian said, running a hand along his hair and causing a snicker to run through the group.

            "I'd want bigger horns," Iron Bull piped up, giving everyone a wink with his one good eye.  Everyone laughed again at that, the energy in the room getting better as they finally started to feel more relaxed around each other. 

            Everyone except Vivienne apparently -- she stood up abruptly after Iron Bull spoke.  "This is disgusting," she announced.  "I'm leaving."  She swept out of the room, her wedge sandals making noise all the way down the hall toward their bedrooms. 

            For just a moment, everyone stared after her.  Then Blackwall snorted, and Dorian huffed out, "Well!" as he glanced around.  Most of them just shrugged back before Sera got up. 

            "Good riddance!" She shouted down the hall, and Talia couldn't help the laugh that boiled out of her.  She tried to suppress it immediately, knowing it was rude, but she wasn't alone; Cassandra was muffling a laugh in her hand, and beside her, Cullen was smirking. 

            "Let's keep playing," Varric suggested, gesturing for the ball.  Talia tossed it to him.  "What was your worst subject in school?  Oh, that's easy. Math."  He glanced around the circle.  "Anyone else?" 

            "Math," Talia agreed readily, making a face. 

            "Me too," Dorian said. 

            "And me," Cassandra piped up. 

            "Math," said Iron Bull. 

            "And for me," Cullen sighed. 

            "I was okay…" Blackwall said, but Sera waved him silent. 

            "I was bad at all of it!" She announced proudly before grabbing the ball from Varric.  "What's the most embarrassing thing you've ever done?"  That stilled the cheerful elf for a moment before she started laughing once again.  "Ooohh the first day at the bakery, I used salt instead of sugar for all the cookies!"  The group collectively groaned.  "They were soooo bad, but I claimed that it was on purpose, a new style!"  She glanced around.  "Guess what happened?" 

            "Maker, is THAT why the nobles were eating salt cookies for two months?"  Talia demanded.  She leaned forward, studying Sera, who looked not at all embarrassed.  Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Dorian and Varric trying not to laugh.  "I had to write a piece about that!  And try them!" 

            "That's it!"  Sera giggled gleefully and almost fell off the arm of the chair as she did. "Those hoity-toity nobles, thought they were having something special! But it was just me fucking up, yeah!"  Now she laughed so hard she really did fall, though her laughter continued.  From her new position on the floor, she tossed the ball up.  It landed in Cullen's lap and surprised, he caught it. 

            The group was busy laughing at Sera, so no one noticed that Cullen's face went rather white and he quickly moved his thumb to a new question before answering.  "Ok," he started quietly.  Talia leaned down to pull Sera up to sitting as he read his question.  "What was your most embarrassing hair style? Maker's breath," he groaned.  Varric and Cassandra started laughing the moment he finished speaking, and he shot them both a glare.  "Well," he started, running a hand self-consciously through his hair.  "I used to wear it really curly… and I had this goatee for a while too…"  He trailed off, one hand rubbing over the stubble on his chin.  Varric and Cassandra's laughter grew, but no one else got it. 

            "Looks good to me," Iron Bull said, wiggling his eyebrows at Cullen, who blushed. 

            "Is it really that bad," Blackwall asked, studying Cullen's hair. 

            "Trust me," the blonde man reassured him, and while his attention was elsewhere, Sera pounced. 

            "Let's see!"  She leapt onto the couch beside him, her hands already buried in and ruffling his hair into a huge mess.  Dorian and Varric looked positively gleeful.  Cullen tried to fight her off for a moment before he heaved a sigh and just sat there, giving Cassandra a pleading look while the elf destroyed his obviously carefully constructed hairstyle. 

            "You have the ball," she reminded him, and Cullen tossed it to Blackwall eagerly. 

            "What's your greatest pet peeve," he read, and the group dutifully tried to pay attention, ignoring the rat's nest of curls that was quickly appearing atop Cullen's head.  Sera giggled madly to herself all the while.  "It'd have to be people who buy things."  He prepared to toss the ball like this answer was enough. 

            "Wait," Talia spoke up.  "What does that mean? Buy what kind of things?" 

            Blackwall gave her a blank look.  "All kinds of things.  Furniture, jewelry, anything really." 

            "And you dislike when people do that?" 

            "Like, I don't know, everyone?" Dorian added, and some concerned looks were exchanged around the room. 

            "Yeah. You can just make things yourself," Blackwall dropped the beach ball on to the cushion beside him and crossed his arms.  "People who buy things are suckers." 

            "Um…"  The circle of looks was exchanged once again before Iron Bull snapped up the beach ball from Blackwall. 

            "That answers that!" He shouted, a little too enthusiastic, and tossed the ball to himself.  "What's the biggest advantage of being tall?  Oo, that's easy."  He winked at Talia.  "Looking down women's blouses." 

            "Don't you dare!" Talia snapped, crossing her arms protectively over her chest.  Her t-shirt wasn't low cut at all -- it was an old concert shirt that hung off her, actually -- but she wasn't taking any chances. 

            "Sadly, it's gotta be you," Bull told her.  "Vivienne left, and Cassandra over there's too tall for me to get a good angle."  He gave Cassandra a loaded grin. 

            "I'll have you know, I carry a gun," Cassandra said, though the laughter in her voice hinted that she was more pleased than she let on.  Bull heaved a great laugh before tossing the ball to Varric. 

            "What's the worst job in the world," the dwarf read.  "Too easy.  Picking up after Hawke."  He rolled his eyes, and Cullen and Cassandra rolled theirs too. 

            "Agreed," Cullen grumbled.  The scar on his lip tugged as he frowned. 

            "I think mine's worse," Talia joked.  "You've only got one celebrity.  I've got like twenty to keep track of."    

            "I'm so sorry," Dorian said sarcastically.  "Are we too much for you?"    

            "You just wish you were in my magazine," she shot back.    

            "I do nothing of the sort," he huffed, and everyone laughed.  Varric tossed the ball to Cassandra. 

            "What's the first thing you notice on the opposite sex," she read, and thought for a moment.  "The eyes," she sighed after a moment.  "Like windows to the soul." 

            Across the circle, Varric gagged.  "That's awfully cliché," he pointed out. 

            "That's how all the romance writers do it," Cassandra said defensively.  "Shouldn't you know that?" 

            Varric started to puff up, and Cassandra gave him a look that clearly said she'd won. 

            "I look at teeth," Dorian announced before they could start a fight, and everyone turned to look at him. 

            "Teeth?"  Talia asked.  She wasn't sure she'd ever considered the teeth on anyone she'd dated, and the looks around the circle said she wasn't alone. 

            This didn't bother Dorian in the slightest.  "Yep.  They have to have good teeth." 

            "Odd, innit," Sera asked, cocking her head at Dorian.  She'd given up on destroying Cullen's hair and now sat on the arm of the loveseat, leaning against his shoulder like a giant cuddly cat. 

            "I don't know," Iron Bull said.  "I look at hair first."  He ran a hand over his head and horns. 

            "But you're bald!"  Dorian accused. 

            "That's why I need someone with good hair.  They gotta have enough for the both of us."  He threw Cullen a wink, and the blonde man blushed.  His curls rose a good three inches off his head now, and every time he attempted to push them back down, they just fluffed up even higher.  "I like a man with some curls," Bull said salaciously. 

            Cullen flattened his hands over his hair protectively and sank down in his seat.  "Maker's breath!" 

            They played for a while longer (Iron Bull apparently made sex noises in his sleep, and Talia desperately hoped his room wasn't next to hers) before Blackwall announced he wanted to see the gym in the house and Cullen insisted that he needed time to fix his hair before the pool party started.  Cassandra said she wanted to get a run in, and Sera wanted to explore the kitchen, and so the group split up, each left to his or her own devices for a few hours until the Welcome to Skyhold barbeque began. 

\---

            After fixing his hair (a process that took far longer than he was willing to admit), Cullen found himself wandering the house, trying to get a feel for its layout and available activities.  He couldn't remember the last time his schedule had been so open; probably not since childhood, he reckoned. 

            Three months of leisure time might kill him. 

            He heaved a sigh as he walked through the living room from his dorm.  Blackwall, the older guy with the bushy beard, was his roommate, and though he seemed nice enough, Cullen didn't really want to hang out with him.  He seemed far too serious and uptight to make good company, especially since Cullen knew that he was already too serious and uptight for his own good. 

            Maybe three months to relax would be decent after all. 

            The living room was empty, but Cullen resisted the urge to sit and ignore everyone else.  It was be far too easy to withdraw into himself, just read a book and forget about the cameras.  But deep down, he didn't really want to do that.  He couldn't quite place why he wanted to be involved, but something told him he'd regret it if he didn't get anything out of this experience. 

            He still wasn't sure why he'd agreed to be on this silly reality show.  Cassandra had talked him into applying when she did, saying that she didn't want to be alone, and Cass was his best friend -- he'd do just about anything for her. 

            Including, apparently, sign his life away for the next three months. 

            _Snap out of it, Rutherford,_ he reminded himself.  That line of thinking wouldn't get him anywhere, despite his deep-seated anxiety with being the center of attention.  Cullen had never been the type to draw awareness to himself, preferring to remain on the sidelines and observe most of life's activities.  Even when he'd been a Templar, he hadn't enjoyed being the one to preside over Harrowings or run prayers in the Chantry -- he'd preferred having guard duty or running ground missions outside the Circles, where no one was giving him a second look. 

            Those missions had always been his strength.  Other Templars had looked to him for guidance, but it had never felt imposing; it had always been about the job, keeping the general public and the mages safe.  He knew the Circles of old had been more akin to prisons, but they were basically boarding schools now, though tensions between mages and Templars still ran high. 

            That had been one of the reasons he left, one of the reasons he took Cassandra up on her offer of being Special Forces for the Kirkwall police team.  That, and what had happened at Kinloch, but he didn't like to dwell on that. 

            Cassandra had offered him a way out of a shit situation, one that was rapidly putting him at the center of it all, and he'd been happy to get away. 

            Even though that had been almost four years ago, he still hadn't moved past his anxiety about people watching him -- and somehow, the fact that millions were about to watch him from the comfort of their own homes had eluded him until now. 

            He'd have to get used to this.  And besides, it was too late to back out -- Cassandra would kill him.  Better to keep on the Seeker's good side.    

            He turned the corner out of the living room and headed down a different hallway, away from the crashes and cursing of Sera making a mess in their new kitchen.  A smile snuck across his face at the thought of their game this morning.  He wasn't usually the type for being silly, but something about that elf was endearing.  She reminded him a little of his sister Rosalie, who had always loved to pester him and yet never quite crossed the line into actual annoyance. 

            Sera he could tolerate, he decided.  Maybe even like.

            Then Vivienne passed him going the opposite direction, and his smile faded.  He didn't want to dislike her, not when he was working so hard to overcome his prejudice against mages, and yet he couldn't help it.  Her eyes, no longer hidden by her sunglasses, appraised him as she passed, and he suppressed the urge to say something smart.  They wouldn't get along, he could tell.  But it wouldn't be because she was a mage -- it was just her. 

            That, he could live with. 

            He passed a laundry room and a well-stocked gym before he found a spiral staircase to the upper floors.  The desire to get involved forgotten, Cullen started up the stairs.  Its wrought iron railings rattled as he climbed until he stepped into a long, dark hallway.  Closed doors lined it on either side, Orlesian paintings of nobility in masks hanging between them.  Cullen gave each a dirty look at he passed -- he might work in Kirkwall, but at heart he would always be Fereldan. 

            He pushed open each door as he passed.  Most opened into empty storage space, though he could see the wink of cameras where the wall met the ceiling in each, like the producers of the show knew someone would come exploring.  Finally one wasn't empty, and Cullen stepped inside. 

            Bright sunlight filtered through floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating an enormous room filled with books.  Several large desks were strategically placed in the middle, with couches and armchairs lining the walls between shelves. 

            "A library," he breathed, staring up at all the choices.  Cullen loved to read; it was easier on his eyes than watching TV or playing on his phone, and it helped ease the headaches that had bothered him since giving up lyrium a few months ago. 

            Yet another reason why this reality show thing wasn't the best idea, and Cullen sighed again.  Hopefully Blackwall didn't mind sharing a room with someone plagued with nightmares. 

            He tried to push those dark thoughts away and instead walked through the room, eyes scrolling along the shelves in search of a military history section.  He was in luck -- the library was well-stocked, and the glare of sunlight didn’t quite reach the back corner where he found himself.  Carefully choosing a book about the Ferelden civil war back in the Dragon Age, he settled himself in an armchair and started to read. 

\---

            When he managed to drag himself away from the book hours later, Cullen found the pool party already in full swing.  The Iron Bull, Blackwall, Sera, and, to Cullen's surprise, Cassandra were playing volleyball in the shallow end of the pool where a net had been put up.  Off at the far end of the patio, Vivienne was lounging in the hot tub overlooking the estate's vast backyard.  She had some kind of vegetables over her eyes.  Pop music pumped out of speakers near the patio door where Cullen stood, and Varric was singing along (decidedly off-key) as he stoked the grill fire. 

            "Curly, want a beer?" He called, and Cullen grimaced. 

            "Must you call me that?"  He asked, though he stepped out of the doorway to join Varric anyway. 

            The dwarf just chuckled.  "It's not my fault you got that question," he said, though the twinkle in his eye made Cullen suspicious.  "And you didn't have to say the curly look was the worst.  You could have said something else."  He passed Cullen a beer and reached into the cooler for another. 

            Cullen twisted the top off and tossed it in the garbage.  "Like what? That's the worst look I've ever had." 

            Varric turned from the grill at that. "You could have lied," he said, pointing the tongs at Cullen's chest.  "How would anyone have known?" 

            "You and Cass would have," Cullen muttered, mentally kicking himself for not thinking of lying. He took a sip of his beer. 

            "Eh, you're too honest for that," Varric decided, turning back to the fire.  "You gonna swim?  Food won't be ready for a while yet." 

            Cullen studied the volleyball game that had taken over most of the pool.  Sera had climbed up on the diving board in the deep end and was now shouting for Iron Bull to serve her the ball so she could get a point.  He did so, and Sera spiked it over the net with an enormous splash.  When she surfaced, she was screaming with laughter, and Cass was looking bitter that she hadn't been able to defend her side. 

            "Nah, I'm good for now," he said.  "Need any help?"  Varric promptly assigned him the task of bringing out the food, and Cullen headed inside. 

            The kitchen was filled with laughter and the whrrr of a blender, and Talia went red the second she saw Cullen. 

            "Oh no, are we too loud?"  She asked in horror, but Cullen only shook his head.  She smiled at him then, her face lighting up with relief, and he couldn't help but smile back. 

            "Margaritas all around then!" Dorian shouted, turning the blender back on, and Talia promptly dissolved into giggles again, her concern gone.  Her hair was pulled up in a ponytail, a few wisps of her dark bangs hanging down across her forehead as she put together a tray of raw meat for the barbeque. 

            "Varric asked me to help!" Cullen tried to be heard over the blender, but it wasn't working. 

            "What!" Talia shouted back, looking up. 

            "Help! Varric asked me to --help."  Dorian turned off the blender just as he shouted the last word, and now it was his turn to blush.  "Sorry." 

            "Well," Talia said, glancing at the mess of food around her.  "I've got almost everything ready to go outside.  Why won't you go change and then you can help carry?" 

            Cullen glanced down at his attire, the same white button-down and black slacks he'd been wearing that morning.  "What's wrong with my clothes?" 

            Talia giggled, and Dorian joined the conversation, a comically large drink in his hand.  "We're going to a pool party, not a job interview, my good man," he said, taking a sip.  "Go change! Swimsuit! Sandals! And definitely no shirt."  He winked. 

            "Dorian!" Talia elbowed him, and Dorian looked aghast at her. 

            "What? You can't tell me you don't want to see that without a shirt!" He gestured vaguely at Cullen, who stood staring, his mouth open. 

            "That's rude! We just met him!" 

            Dorian crossed his arms.  "Are you being serious right now?" 

            "Yes! I mean, it's not… It's just… Oh dammit!" She groaned, her face bright red, before smacking Dorian in the chest.  "Don't be a jerk!" 

            "I'm, uh, going to change now," Cullen muttered, pointing to the hallway that led to their rooms.  "And I'll be back with a shirt for sure."  He hurried out, though he could hear Dorian muttering, "Now look what you've done," to Talia as he left.  Too late, he realized he'd set his beer down in the kitchen, but he wasn't willing to go back to get it. 

            It's not that he wasn't used to people finding him attractive -- it was that he usually didn't find them attractive back.  And that was definitely not the case with Talia Trevelyan.  Those green eyes were striking, and the way she blushed, almost as much as he did… he always found that endearing.  She'd been quiet during lunch but relaxed as their icebreaker went on, definitely more so than him, and her smile seemed so ready and genuine. 

            _Not the place, Rutherford._   He shook himself and headed into his bedroom to change.  He'd actually brought a swimsuit, not that he ever went swimming at home.  As he undressed, he caught a look at himself in the mirror and froze halfway out of his shorts. 

            The scars.  He'd forgotten about the scars, leftover from Kinloch and his work in Kirkwall and just about every other major campaign he'd ever run.  Most were small and faded, other than one long white line that traversed his left pec.  But there was no hiding the deep puckered lines that crossed his back, starting on one shoulder and extending almost to his spine.  A similar set wrapped around his opposite side, and he traced them with his fingers as he looked, trying to keep the memories at bay. 

            Then his brain reminded him of where he was, standing in a bedroom that wasn't his, that was in fact being filmed for everyone in Thedas to see, and he dropped his hand.  He swapped his pants for board shorts and pulled a shirt over his head quickly, hoping he hadn't paused long enough for the producers to take notice, and practically ran back toward the kitchen. 

            The last thing he needed was for his family to see those scars for the first time on national TV.  He'd never hear the end of it from Mia -- he hadn't shared what had happened at Kinloch, only called her to explain that he was leaving Ferelden and to give her his new address.  Being his bossy big sister, she probably had questions, but Cullen had no interest in providing answers. 

            Instead he pushed it from his mind and grabbed a tray of food from Talia, barely pausing to say anything before taking it out to Varric.  The dwarf saw the look on his face and passed him another beer without asking, trading it for the hamburgers and brats Cullen carried. 

            He'd been sitting on a corner of the patio, rolling the bottle unopened between his hands for some time before Talia came over and sat in the chair opposite him. 

            "You okay?"  She asked carefully, her face guarded.  Cullen glanced up, surprised someone had joined him. 

            "Yeah, I'm fine," he said automatically, and Talia arched an eyebrow at him. 

            "I have trouble believing that, but okay," she said.  She leaned back in her chair, crossing one long bare leg over the other, and watched the ongoing volleyball game.  Dorian had joined Cassandra and Blackwall's team and was using his magic to hold the beach ball out of reach of Sera, who was now sitting on Iron Bull's shoulders. 

            Cullen watched her watching them for a moment before sighing and dropping his beer on the low table between them.  He scrubbed his hands over his face.  "How did you know?" 

            She didn't even glance at him.  "Well, you were smiling before, but when you came out of your room, you looked like you'd seen a demon," she explained. 

            Cullen tried to school his expression into one of neutrality.  She had no idea how close she'd come to the truth.  "I'll be fine," he assured her. 

            She turned to face him, uncrossing her legs and leaning in.  Her baggy concert t-shirt was still on, but Cullen guessed it concealed a swimsuit now.  "You sure?  I know I just met you and all, but…"  She hesitated, and Cullen found himself watching her teeth worrying her lip.  When he realized, he grabbed his beer and quickly twisted the lid off, hoping for a quick distraction. 

            It worked, exploding over him from how he'd been rolling it before.  Talia leapt back, her chair tilting dangerously for a moment, and Cullen grabbed her arm to keep her from falling. 

            "Thanks," she said, chuckling, and wiped the foamy beer off her thigh. 

            "That doesn't usually happen to me," Cullen said before he could stop himself, wiping at his shirt, and she laughed out loud. 

            "Good to know," she joked before she looked critically at him.  "Seriously, though," she said then, her voice losing some of its humor.  "If you need someone to talk to, I'm, uh, here."  She offered him a small smile, and he nodded. 

            "Um, thanks," he said, not sure what else to add.  "But I have Cassandra, and I actually knew Varric a few years ago, and …you were just trying to be nice," he realized as he spoke, and her face fell.  "I'm an idiot, I'm sorry, I just…" 

            "It's okay, Cullen," she said, though she stood up.  "It was just a thought." 

            "No, please, I--" 

            "You want another beer?"  She asked, and he nodded helplessly.  She was already walking away. 

            "Thank you," he said softly to her back. 

            From the pool, he heard Dorian shout something at him that sounded like "Smooth!" and he casually flipped him the bird before slouching back down in his chair. 

            Maybe it would be a long three months after all. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus points if you spot the Parks and Rec reference!


	3. Chapter 3

_Week One Confessionals_

Cullen: The Workaholic

            _Cullen sits straight up, his old military training still with him like he's under questioning.  His hair is curling in surprising ringlets up and out, like a halo around his head.  He does not look happy._

            Someone stole my hair gel.  I know they did, I just can't figure out who.  Or WHY! I let that damn Sera play with it the first day, and now she can't shut up about it, and Varric keeps calling me 'Curly,' which he knows I hate, and, argh! _(He pinches the bridge of his nose briefly before trying to look more normal and less crazed for the camera.)_   It's fine.  I'm fine.  It's not so bad, right?  _(He shifts so the camera can get a profile of his hair.  It is, in fact, that bad.)_   Anyway, the rest of things are fine.  Blackwall's a good roommate, and I haven't said anything stupid to anyone in almost three days, so that's an improvement. 

 

Dorian: The Fabulous One

            _Dorian looks as put together as always, his moustache trimmed in prep for individual filming and his shirt pressed.  He's holding a drink in one hand, and his sunglasses are on._

            What? Oh, yes, how are things here in Skyhold.  _(He leans in conspiratorially.)_ Well, I'm the one who stole Iron Bull's underwear and Blackwall's swimming trunks, so you can thank me for that little show later.  And Talia and I have been spending our time mostly pool-side, so you're welcome again.  Plus, I know who stole Cullen's hair gel.  _(He leans back and pretends to clean his nails, looking uninterested.)_ I could tell him, I suppose, as it's just killing him that he can't do his hair.  But I have to say, I do rather prefer being the best looking man in the house, and he is just _(Dorian makes a noise like "unf!" and fans himself.)_! Too much competition.  I'll think I'll save that little tidbit until I need something from him.  

 

The Iron Bull: The Meathead

            _Iron Bull barely fits into the filming booth, his horns brushing one side and sticking out the door on the other.  The camera is obviously angled up to get his face, but it includes a rather large amount of bare chest as well._

I am thoroughly enjoying myself so far.  All the ladies those producers picked are hot, and even though Blackwall isn't really my type, I've seen the looks he's been giving me.  _(Someone off camera asks a muffled question, and Iron Bull roars with laughter.)_ Sure, yeah, it would be because I'm not wearing underwear.  _(He shrugs.)_ Someone took them, so of course I'm not wearing them.  Makes it kind of a bitch when I'm doing crunches, I don’t know how those ladies do it in thongs and whatnot, but man, I am enjoying that breeze.  _(There's another muffled question, and Iron Bull leans back against the booth wall and laces his hands behind his head.)_ No, I don't think I'd go back even if they were returned.  I'm free now, baby, there's no going back. 

 

Sera: The Prankster

            _Sera sits in the filming booth, smiling gleefully at the camera.  She's holding a plastic baggy full of cookies and a giant bottle of hair gel._

            Look what I stole from Cully-Wully! _(She holds up the hair gel.)_   He has no idea -- been storming about looking grumpy an' mutterin’ about how he can't believe he forgot to pack more.  I'm gonna hide it somewhere, probably in that uptight bitch Vivienne's bed or something where he'll never find it.  Being mean to Tali, that's jus' uncalled for, and plus his hair looks better -- well, funnier, more like people -- when it's all big an' curly! You won't tell, will you? _(She holds the bag of cookies out, like she's offering them to whoever is behind the camera.)_ I used sugar, not salt in these, I swear. 

 

Vivienne: The Prissy One

            _Vivienne sits on the edge of the chair in the filming booth, her hands neatly folded in her lap.  Her makeup is impeccable, her nails a vivid blue, and she's wearing a white, complicated-looking top that loops around her neck but still exposes her cleavage._

            I have trouble believing I am trapped in the house with these people.  That Sera is simply intolerable, and the Iron Bull! His behavior is appalling at the best of times.  _(She heaves an elaborate sigh.)_ I know I don't have much of a choice to be there, as my dear Bastien is a producer and his wife needs time to warm up to the idea of my being there, but this! I never imagined such ghastly housemates.  I find myself tolerating the company of Blackwall more than the rest, though I believe Cullen might be willing to discuss the politics of the Circles if I asked.  _(She shrugs, looking bored.)_ It may be a lost cause, however, especially with that hair. 

 

Talia: The 'Normal' One

            _Talia prods the walls of the filming booth as she speaks, looking amused when they bend and flex as though they are made of cardboard.  She looks casual, wearing leggings and another concert t-shirt, but she has bags under her eyes._

What? Oh, no, I'm sleeping, Cassandra is just up really early every morning to work out.  _(She yawns as if to emphasize her point.)_ She's offered for me to run with her, but she usually goes with Cullen, and I don't think he likes me very much… That's okay though.  Can you keep a secret?  _(She smiles, transforming her whole face, and a voice from behind the camera promises to keep her secret.)_ I helped Sera hide his hair gel.  It's so funny, he's so upset but trying not to show it, like he's such a badass. _(She rolls her eyes, though her smile gives away how much that amuses her.)_ It's kinda cute, actually.  Or at least, um, Dorian thinks so.  Anyway. Um.  Oh! Varric and I have been looking each other's work, which has been enlightening, and Dorian offered to teach me how to play chess! We found a board in an old storage room upstairs.  It hasn't been bad, really.  

\---

            Cullen couldn't sleep the night before Skyhold's first scheduled event.  That wasn't quite true; he hadn't slept well since his arrival.  Normally he near-collapsed out of exhaustion and nightmares woke him, but this was the first night that he actually couldn't fall asleep.

            Reminding himself that he was on camera, he dragged himself out of bed and went in search of a drink of water.  He padded down the hall in his bare feet, congratulating himself on remembering to put on a shirt, when he realized that there was a light on upstairs.  None of the other doors to the bedrooms were open, so that wasn't helpful, and Cullen tried to put it from his mind.  Someone in the house was probably up -- between the nine of them, someone else had to be a night owl. 

            He grabbed a glass and wandered into the living room.  The burgundy couch there welcomed him, its cushions cuddling around his back as he sank into it, and he leaned his head back to rest his eyes. 

            The next thing he knew, someone was shaking him awake. 

            "Cullen! Wake up!"  He sat up with a start, almost bashing foreheads with whoever was leaning over him. 

            "What!"  Talia jumped back, her arms held up defensively.  Her green eyes caught what little light came in through the windows, making them dance as she stared at him. 

            "You were having a nightmare, I think," she said softly. 

            Cullen glanced around him.  His water was still upright on the table next to him, but he had slumped over on the couch as he fell asleep, his feet still on the floor; he was lucky he hadn't rolled off.  "Did I," he began before coughing.  Clearing his throat, he grabbed for the glass and took a sip.  Talia didn't move.  "I didn't hurt you, did I?" 

            She shook her head, her arms moving to hug herself. 

            "Did I say anything?" 

            "Mostly you just repeated 'no' a bunch," she told him softly.  He nodded quickly.  The water glass he'd been holding spilled, and he realized he was shaking violently. 

            Talia saw it too and grabbed a blanket from nearby.  "Here," she said, sitting down next to him.  She dabbed at the water with a corner of the cloth before tucking the blanket around his shoulders. 

            "Thank you," he mumbled, his teeth chattering as cold swept over him.  The sweat on his body suddenly felt like ice. 

            Talia touched his shoulder carefully, and when he didn't flinch, she rubbed her hand gently over his back.  "You should go back to bed," she suggested, but Cullen shook his head. 

            "I don’t want to wake Blackwall," he muttered, the words barely forming around his shaking.  Talia nodded.  They sat in silence for a few minutes until Cullen's shivering subsided.  When he finally felt awake and safe again, he glanced at her. 

            "Thank you," he repeated.  She looked over, shaken out of her thoughts, and managed a small smile. 

            "You're welcome.  I'll leave you alone now."  She started to get up, but Cullen grabbed her hand. 

            "Wait," he said, and she turned.  They looked at their joined hands, and then both pulled back, blushing.  "I uh," he began, rubbing the back of his neck.  "I wanted to apologize, for the other day." 

            She looked quizzically at him.  "Huh?" 

            "When you offered to listen," he explained, and he saw her muscles tense as she put up her guard.  "I was, well, kind of an ass.  I didn't mean that Cassandra… That is, you were… Oh, Maker's breath," he grumbled.  He'd been thinking of little else except apologizing to her for the last few days, and now that he had the opportunity, he was making an ass out of himself.  Again. 

            "It's fine, Cullen," Talia forced out.  She picked at the kittens that scampered across her pajamas. 

            "No, it's not," he insisted, finding his voice.  "I'm sorry I was so rude, and I appreciate the offer… if it still stands?"  He looked up at her, blanket held so tight in his fingers that his knuckles were turning white. 

            She avoided eye contact for a moment, still playing with her shorts.  When she met his eyes, he could see the beginnings of a smile there.  "It would be nice to have another friend in the house," she admitted, and Cullen felt his heart leap. 

            "Then as your friend," he began, and patted the cushion next to him.  "Why are you up at this time of night?" 

            Talia settled next to him, pulling her legs up and hugging them to her chest.  "I can't sleep," she said.

            Cullen smirked.  "I guessed that." 

            She shot him a dirty look and smacked his arm through the blanket.  "Smart ass." 

            "Sorry, no seriously," he said.  He tugged the blanket down off his shoulders and offered her half.  She accepted, draping it over her knees.  She snuggled down into it, looking over at him with only those green eyes showing. 

            "I miss home, I guess," she said, her voice muffled.  Her eyes roved over the dark room, taking in the shapes of the various pieces of furniture and finally landing on the grounds outside.  The moonlight illuminated just enough of the room that Cullen could see her profile, though the side of her face closest to him was cast in shadows. 

            When she didn't speak, he realized she was probably expecting a response.  "Uh… anything in particular?"  he asked, and he was relieved to see a sheepish smile on her face. 

            "My dog," she admitted with a little laugh.  "He's staying with my brother, but he sleeps next to me every night at home.  It's weird, not to have him there." 

            "What's his name?" 

            "Um…"  Talia trailed off before turning to Cullen.  He couldn't see her features well in the dark, but he thought she was still smiling.  "Promise you won't tell?" 

            "I won't," he said, leaning toward her. "But there are cameras, you know." 

            She pulled back abruptly.  "Oh right.  This probably looks bad, the two of us up late at night, like we're doing something we shouldn't." With a tug, the blankets flew off her legs. 

            "Wait," Cullen said, mentally kicking himself.  He grabbed the blanket and, operating on pure impulse, threw it over both their heads.  It settled slowly, hanging off them until they were two mountains with a deep valley between them. 

            "What the hell, Cullen," Talia asked dryly from her position as a blanket-mountain.  Beside her, Cullen pushed the blanket off his own face and wiggled around until he was facing her, adjusting as he went.  Before long, they were together inside a tiny blanket tent, held up only by the back of the couch and their heads.

            "Now they can't see us," he said, blushing as he realized that now he couldn't see her at all.  What light the windows had provided was gone.    

            The confused look melted off Talia's face regardless.  "Brilliant!" She cried, scooting closer until their knees were touching.  "Okay, so you promise you won't tell about my dog's name?" 

            Cullen nodded, causing a moment of panic as their blanket-tent's roof shook.  "I promise." 

            Talia took a deep breath, started to speak, and then paused.  "I can't see you to tell if you're serious," she said. 

            "I am, I swear." 

            "Are you really," she demanded, and Cullen suddenly felt her hands, warm and dry, fumbling over his face.  

            It was his turn to ask what the hell. 

            "I'm trying to figure out if your expression is serious or not," she explained, her fingers trailing along his forehead and nose.  "But your face is always serious, so it's hard to tell." 

            Cullen fought the urge to lean back, away from her touch, at this insult to his pride.  "I am not always serious." 

            "Are too," she said, fingertips digging into the corners of his mouth as if to push his lips into a smile.  He obliged her and could practically see her answering smile.  "Ok, now I believe you," she giggled.  One fingertip dragged over his scar as she pulled away, and he shivered.  Talia's hand froze. 

            "Sorry," she whispered after a pause, her voice shaky in the darkness. Her fingers withdrew, though that same fingertip dragged down across his lips as it did.  It was only by a small margin that Cullen managed to resist kissing her skin, knowing how crazy that would seem if he did. 

            He'd known this woman less than a week; what was wrong with him? 

            "So…" he said, clearing his throat.  Talia sat back, pulling part of the blanket with her, and cleared hers too.  "Did I earn your trust?" 

            "What?  Oh, right."  She seemed distracted suddenly.  Cullen hoped he hadn't just done something stupid again, though part of his brain reminded him that he hadn't done anything at all.   Talia kept talking, so he must have been okay.  "My dog's name is... Doc….."  She trailed off, mumbling the rest of the name into the darkness. 

            "I'm sorry, I didn't catch that," Cullen said earnestly, only to feel Talia smack his arm.  "Hey!" 

            "You did so!" She laughed.  "You're just trying to make fun of me!" 

            "No, really," he said, reaching out toward her.  Halfway across the darkness, he remembered he couldn't see her and withdrew his hand lest he bump her in a less than appropriate place.  He swallowed. "I didn't hear you." 

            He could almost hear her considering.  "Fine.  His name is," she took a deep breath.  "Doctor Malcolm McSnuggles."  She moved under the blanket, and Cullen wondered if perhaps she was trying to leave again. 

            "That's… unique," he offered, trying not to chuckle. 

            "You're laughing at me," she said, and he realized she'd hidden her face in her knees. 

            "No," he said, reaching out again.  This time he felt safer, and when he encountered her leg, he patted it carefully.  "I'm not. I'm just… surprised? That's a lot of name for a little dog." 

            Now Talia sounded offended.  "Who said he was a little dog?" 

            Cullen withdrew his hand.  "I just… assumed, actually," he mumbled.  He was blushing again, and suddenly thankful that she couldn't see him. 

            "He's a mabari." 

            "Seriously? Those are huge." 

            "And vicious.  He could eat you if you’re not nice to me.”  

            "Yes ma'am," he jokingly agreed, and she laughed.    

            "He's getting older now, almost eleven, so I usually call him Doc.  That sounds more dignified than McSnuggles," she explained, still giggling. 

            "Yes, definitely," Cullen agreed again, inspiring that same musical laugh.  "You know, I um, wouldn't have figured you for a Fereldan dog," he offered after she'd calmed. 

            "What, you thought I'd have one of those floofy Orlesian things?" 

            "No, I just… don't you live in Val Royeaux?  Where'd you even get a mabari?"  It wasn't common to find the dogs here in Orlais, especially since most Orlesians despised everything and anything that hinted of their neighboring country. 

            "I, uh," Talia stumbled.  "I got him special from a little town in western Ferelden, actually.  Honnleath, I think?" 

            Cullen froze.  Had she just said Honnleath?  His hometown, Honnleath, where his mother had bred and raised mabari for years?

            He had to know.  And to know, he had to see her face, and suddenly he was scrambling with the edges of the blanket, trying to expose them to air again. 

            "Cullen, what--" She stopped flailing as soon as he got the blanket off her head and stared at him.  Something in his expression worried her, because she reached over and squeezed his knee.  "You okay?" 

            "Did you just say you got your dog from Honnleath?"  She nodded, not moving her hand.  "Who'd you get him from?" 

            She thought hard for a second, closing her eyes.  Cullen waited, his eyes flickering rapidly over her face.  It couldn't be, could it?  His mother had died almost ten years ago, his father too, in a car accident.  He hadn't even known, had been too consumed by his own issues with Kinloch and mages and everything else to answer his siblings' phone calls, and by the time he'd recovered, the funerals had been over.  Deep down, he was sure Rosalie had never forgiven him.  Branson had been more understanding, but ever since Cullen had missed the birth of his son last year, he was pretty sure his brother wasn't feeling forgiving either.

            And Mia already harassed him because he never called or emailed.  The weight of his family settled deep in his gut, the guilt heavy and uncomfortable.

            Talia suddenly opened her eyes.  "Martha, I think," she announced, looking triumphant in the moonlight.  "Martha Rutherford." 

            "That's, uh, that's … my mom," Cullen choked out, feeling surprisingly articulate despite the fact that his heart had stopped in his chest.  His mother.  This woman before him had known his mother.  In fact, she'd probably seen her more recently than Cullen -- he hadn't been home to visit since he was a teenager, almost fifteen years ago, and Talia had said her dog was only ten years old.  And he'd never made it home again. 

            "What," Talia said blankly.  "Your… mom? What?" 

            "Yep," he said, his voice shaking now.  "My mom.  You bought your dog from my dead mom."  Laughter bubbled up out of his chest, and with it came the shaking and tears he'd so long suppressed. 

            Talia moved to hug him almost before he realized he was crying. 

            "Hey, hey, hey," she murmured, sliding her arms around him.  Cullen sank against her, his face buried in his hands.  His mind was too overwhelmed to notice but his body relaxed into an embrace that felt safe and comforting.  Talia was talking to him, her voice low and soothing in his ear, but it was obvious she didn't expect a response. 

            Slowly, between choked sobs, Cullen managed to tell Talia about his family, and his life.  He'd grown up in Honnleath with three siblings, and he'd wanted to be a Templar his whole life.  When his parents finally said yes, he'd applied to several pre-military boarding schools run by the Chantry before leaving home just before he turned fourteen.  He'd visited once a few years later before taking his vows at eighteen.  

            His parents had been killed in a car accident -- they'd been driving along a mountain road during a storm and lost control.  Cullen had been 19. 

            After that, he lost touch with his siblings, barely even managing to call Mia when he moved to Kirkwall.  Cassandra had recruited him out of the Templars a few years later, when he was 26, and he'd been part of the Special Forces branch of Kirkwall's police ever since. 

            He didn't tell her anything about why he'd agreed to join Cassandra.  The weight on him was too much without reliving that night. 

            Luckily, Talia didn't ask any questions, just let him talk until he was through.  By the time he had himself back under control, she'd maneuvered them so he was lying on the couch, the blanket around him, and she was sitting next to him, holding his hand.  "Sleep," she encouraged gently, rubbing her thumb over his knuckles.  "You'll feel better in the morning." 

            "Talia, wait." He tried to catch her as she stood up, and she squeezed his hand before letting go. 

            "I'll be right here."  She nodded toward the loveseat as she grabbed a blanket.  "Don’t worry." 

            "Okay," he murmured, his eyes growing heavy.  "Just… don't leave."  His last thought before he fell asleep was to wonder how, of all the women in Thedas, he'd managed to find her. 

 


	4. Chapter 4

            Talia woke up far too early for the night she'd had.  Her back was cricked from sleeping curled up on a sofa, and her tank top had ridden up in the night, exposing her midriff to the cameras watching.  She tugged it down quickly, eager to hide the scars across her stomach, and glanced around. 

            Cullen lay asleep on the couch across from her, and the night before came rushing back. 

            How was it possible that of all the men she'd meet, here of all places, it would be him?  She'd communicated with Martha Rutherford for close to a year after she bought Dr. McSnuggles, and she was always so warm and friendly in their email exchanges.  When she thought back, she wasn't sure she'd ever given it a second thought that she'd stopped hearing from her, but now it made sense. 

            A heavy weight like grief settled over Talia, surprising her.  She hadn't really known this woman, but now she knew her son.  She'd experienced his grief last night, and that made this morning all the more somber. 

            She sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes, and her gaze settled on Cullen.  He was sprawled on his back, one arm tucked behind his head as he snored quietly.  His hair was curling even more riotously than the night before under the blanket. 

            Their blanket-tent brought a smile to her face.  She was glad to know he didn't really dislike her, and she was even more glad that he'd apologized for being a jerk.  His words had bothered her, even though she barely knew him and thus knew that was unreasonable.  He'd seemed nice over the first few days, maybe more reserved than the others, but he had a friendly smile if she could coax it out of him.  And that voice -- she remembered his teasing about her 'vicious' dog, that accent rolling over his baritone voice.  She shivered.  She was pretty sure she could listen to him read a phone book and still enjoy it. 

            _This is crazy_ , she told herself, studying him as he slept, but she couldn't shake the feeling that was simmering in the pit of her stomach.       

            The man in question made a noise and rolled over abruptly, right off the couch and hitting the floor with a crash. 

            Talia stared, her mouth open. 

            "What happened!"  Cullen sat up fast, his curly hair everywhere and his eyes wild.  "Where am I!"  He looked around, confused, and Talia couldn't help it: laughter poured out of her, doubling her over. 

            Cullen turned to her, still confused.  "Talia?"  He asked.  His voice was thick with sleep, and he brought up a hand to rub through his messy hair.  "What's going on?" 

            Talia just laughed that much harder until she too fell off the couch.  Looking concerned, Cullen crawled over.  Once he made it to her, he lay down again, his head next to hers. 

            "You okay," he asked, studying the ceiling until her laughs subsided. 

            "Fine," she gasped out.  "You?" 

            "Been better," he admitted.  That sobered Talia right up. 

            "I'm sorry, I shouldn't laugh," she managed.  She coughed a few times, trying to catch her breath.  Sunlight was streaming through the windows into the living room -- that meant Cassandra was already up and probably wondering where Talia had gone.  She was surprised to find she didn't care.  "How'd you sleep?" 

            Cullen blew out a breath.  "Pretty well, actually," he said.  He rolled himself over to face her, adjusting so they were a respectable distance apart.  "I'm sorry I freaked out last night." 

            Talia just smiled.  Last night hadn't felt weird to her, despite a near-stranger bursting into tears in her arms.  There was no way she could tell him that though.  "You don't have to apologize," she said instead.  That seemed much more reassuring than _We just met but I feel like I've known you for years._

            He nodded, looking unconvinced, and they both returned to studying the ceiling for a while. 

            "It's amazing that you have one of my mom's dogs," Cullen said eventually.  She heard him take a deep breath before he asked, "How did you even decide to get a mabari?" 

            Talia shifted to look at him again.  "They're my favorite thing about Ferelden," she explained before she blushed. 

            Cullen looked at her quizzically.  "What?" 

            "Well…" She looked abashed but smiled anyway.  "My favorite thing other than the accents." 

            "The accents?"  Cullen repeated, and Talia's heart sank.  Maybe she'd misread last night -- the man had cried in front of her, for Maker's sake! That wasn’t usually a strong flirting technique.  But then Cullen blushed himself, his cheeks and forehead flaming but his eyes sparkling.  "I'll remember that," he murmured.  The scar on his lip tugged his mouth into a lopsided smirk. 

            Talia smiled back. 

            "I have to get up," Cullen stated then, cutting their conversation short.  "Cassandra is probably wondering where I am for our run this morning."  He pushed himself up before offering her a hand.  Talia balanced herself against his strength as she stood, careful not to step too close. 

            "See you later then," she said.  He nodded, scratching the back of his neck as he looked away. 

            "Yeah," he said finally.  "See you later."  Talia watched as he walked toward the bedrooms, glancing behind him once and blushing to see her still standing there. 

            Last night had felt so natural, and yet this morning, she didn't know what to make of Cullen Rutherford.  It had been so easy to get distracted by him, that smile and his ridiculous hair, and she couldn't help but recall the feel of his skin under her hands as she touched his face.  With anyone else, even her close friends or her brother, she would have had no idea what to do if they'd started crying in front of her.  With Cullen…  It had felt normal.  Like, why shouldn’t they be having deep heart to heart conversations in the dead of night?

            He'd seemed pleased with her mentioning of Fereldan accents, but then he'd pulled away, so quickly she almost got whiplash, and now she was left standing in the living room in her pajamas, staring after some guy like she was back in prep school. 

            She sighed and headed to the kitchen for a cup of coffee.  There was no way she'd get back to sleep now. 

\---

            Cullen didn't make it to his run that morning.  He'd felt awkward enough, even if he was secretly excited about Talia’s flirting, but the second he'd stood, a wave of pain radiated out from his throbbing head.  With it came nausea and blurred vision, and he'd hurried out to his bedroom. 

            Talia had stood there, watching him leave.  He hated to be the cause of that look on her face, but he also couldn't bring himself to admit that he hadn't made it to the bedroom, veering off course for the communal bathrooms to be sick instead. 

            How disgusting.  And how pathetic. 

            Why any woman at all, let alone Talia, would talk to him was beyond him. 

            By the time Cassandra found him on the bathroom floor, he'd thrown up everything he had to offer.  His stomach hadn't gotten the message, still dry-heaving violently at the slightest provocation.  Cass had boosted him up, getting him mobile enough to make it to his bedroom with a bucket beside him just in case.  She stuffed him with some sports drink she favored and a high dose of pain meds -- the good stuff from the Special Forces doc at their precinct -- before demanding that he sleep. 

            He'd obliged.  As if he had any choice. 

            When he woke up hours later, he felt surprisingly good.  Hungry, actually, which he was pretty sure he hadn’t experienced in almost a month.  It was rare since he stopped the lyrium – he wasn’t nauseated all the time, though he knew that was coming, but he felt empty, like his body just had no interest in food.  Not the case now – his stomach was growling, and he quickly pulled on a pair of athletic shorts and a fresh t-shirt before leaving his room.

            The kitchen was empty when he went to investigate, though there was a plate of cookies on the counter labeled “Not salt!” in Sera’s child-like handwriting.  Cullen skipped those.  He wasn’t sure he trusted Sera’s cooking just yet (plus, he was pretty sure she’d stolen his hair gel).  Instead he pulled open the fridge, a little surprised to find it well-stocked with a wide variety of options, including some dish that looked terrifyingly like snails. 

            _Probably for Vivienne_ , he thought, gathering the materials for a turkey sandwich.  That plus a bottle of water and an apple, and he was all set. 

            Varric and Sera were having a debate over the best pranks they’d ever pulled when Cullen passed through the living room.  Not wanting to get involved – or further victimized – he kept right on going, and before long he found himself up in the same corner of the library where he’d spent his first afternoon in Skyhold. 

            He didn’t sit though.  Feeling too antsy after spending the whole day in bed, Cullen paced the length of the library, devouring the sandwich as he walked.  Before he’d made it two laps, it was gone.  The bottle of water was nearly gone as well, and as he went back to his plate for the apple, something out the window caught his eye. 

            The library overlooked the estate’s sprawling backyard, including the pool, the patio, and a running trail through the well-manicured garden.  Dorian was sunbathing beside the pool, his enormous sunglasses fixed in place and a book of some sort floating above his head, encased in thick purple magic.  As Cullen watched, Dorian flicked his wrist and the page turned. He smirked – he hadn’t known the man long, but only Dorian would use magic to avoid the menial task of turning pages. 

            But that wasn’t what had caught his eye.  Just down the hill, beyond the line of sight from the pool but not from the library windows, was Talia.

            She was twisted into some shape he barely recognized, her legs in a wide lunge with her front knee bent.  Her torso was flush with her thigh, one arm looped backward under it to grasp her opposite wrist.  It looked extraordinarily painful to Cullen, but as he watched, she untangled herself easily, her body flowing through a series of poses until she was standing straight again, facing away from the house. 

            She was beautiful. 

            Cullen knew he should walk away.  Immediately.  Without looking back. 

            But he couldn’t. 

            Instead he stepped closer to the window, studying the way her dark hair floated around her as she dropped into a plank and then pushed herself back, her shoulders arching down and her rear end in the air. 

            Cullen swallowed. 

            _Yoga, she’s just doing yoga,_ he reminded himself.  _You are spying on this woman’s workout._ But he didn’t care.  Her body flowed so smoothly he couldn’t take his eyes off her as she stepped up and did another lunge. Then she pushed onto one leg, her head down and her other leg straight up, high above her body.  After a pause, her torso came up parallel to the ground, her arm out, and she grasped her raised ankle with the other hand. 

            He watched her for far longer than he should have, the water bottle forgotten in his hand, and allowed his thoughts to drift. 

            Talking to Talia last night had been so easy.  Flirting did not come naturally to him – he fumbled or blushed far more than he actually spoke when in the presence of women he found attractive, and yet that hadn’t been an issue last night.  Even when he’d broken down… that didn’t bother him.  It had felt natural to open up to her, made him feel close to her even though he knew that was crazy.  But she hadn’t acted like it was anything unusual, just opening up her arms to him and letting him grieve. 

            He didn’t know what to make of that. 

            Cullen sighed and turned reluctantly away from the window.  What must it be like to speak naturally to women instead of being crippled by anxiety?

            The bottle of water swished in his hand, and he was reminded of the headache that had caused so much trouble earlier.  He could barely function this morning, despite the sleep he’d gotten on the couch the night before.  The withdrawal would only get worse, or so Cassandra told him.  She had encouraged him every step of the way, through the decision and the process of weaning himself off the lyrium, but she was frank: This had never been done before, not successfully.  Those who had tried before had been driven to the brink of insanity or died.  Most gave up in the throes of nausea and pain as their bodies tried and failed to adjust. 

            It had only been a few months for Cullen, and he’d yet to suffer the most serious side effects.  But they were coming; the nausea today had been worse than in previous weeks, and even though his headache hadn’t exploded into a full-on migraine, it had still been enough to down him for most of the day. 

            He grabbed his apple and resumed pacing, carefully directing his steps away from the windows. 

            His intentions didn’t seem to matter; within minutes, the apple a core in his hand, he was there again, staring out over the grounds as his eyes drifted back to Talia.  She was in the middle of what looked like a backbend, one leg pointed at the sky.  As he watched, she bent her elbows to place her forearms on the ground and kicked her other leg up until she was holding her body vertical.  

            Cullen leaned his forehead against the window, the glass fogging as he huffed out a breath.  He’d felt this simmering in the pit of his stomach before, years ago when he’d first begun his duties as a Templar.  He wasn’t unfamiliar with attraction. 

            He just didn’t know what to do with it.  His thoughts kept coming back to how short a time he’d known her, even as he tried to reason that she’d flirted a little with him and offered her friendship.  But how little he had to offer in return!  Even if he could explain, tell her about the lyrium, it would be asking too much of a near-stranger to accept all that and … do what? Be with him?  _Date_ him? He wasn’t even sure what that meant at this point. 

            He tore his eyes away from her and went back to his corner of the library.  Grabbing the biggest, most interesting-looking book he could find, he opened to a page at random and started reading. 

Anything to keep him away from that window, and from her. 

\---

            Skyhold’s first game night was officially called into session around 5:00pm, just as most of the house’s inhabitants were starting to feel antsy.  Varric wandered the halls, gathering everyone up and suggesting they change into something they didn’t mind getting dirty before he herded everyone out into the vast backyard. 

            It spread before them, utterly transformed, and the participants stared. 

            “I didn’t realize game night meant this,” Cassandra muttered.  Cullen stood stony-faced beside her, arms crossed. 

            “Me neither,” Talia breathed. 

            Dorian even took off his sunglasses. 

            An enormous obstacle course stood in front of them, complete with rope swings, a climbing wall, balance beams, and a mud pit that looked deceptively shallow.  A sparring ring had been built nearby, a giant rope lay ready over a painted orange line in the grass, and  a track had been set up for some kind of race. 

            “Um…” Dorian said, studying this.  “What if you’re not athletically inclined?”  He and Talia exchanged looks. 

            “I’m excited!”  Iron Bull announced.  He flexed his shoulders in anticipation, and Sera started giggling. 

            “Bet you I can win!” She started toward the first obstacle, but Varric held up his hands for quiet. 

            “Everyone, please,” he shouted.  “I’m going to be the judge, as there’s no way I can make it through that.”  He gestured vaguely behind him.  “Plus, the producers asked me to.” 

            “Sure they did,” muttered Sera, arms crossed, but Varric ignored her. 

            “We’ll need two teams,” he began before explaining the rules.  There were five events:  an obstacle course, a 3-legged race, a sparring match, tug of war, and Frisbee, and they’d need to decide who had the best chance of winning each one as a team before the games could start.  The team with the most points at the end, won.  “Line up by height so we can split up!” 

            They fumbled around as they tried to figure out who went where.  Iron Bull was tallest by far, but things were much closer in the human range of things.  Cullen was next, finally unaided by his hair as he’d located his gel in the back corner of the freezer.  Cassandra and Blackwall tied, though Dorian quickly ruffed up his own hair to try to outmatch the gruff older man.  No such luck – he was followed by Vivienne, looking exceptionally bored, and then Talia and Sera.  Talia was probably a little taller, but Sera wouldn’t stop bouncing, so it was impossible to tell. 

            “All right,” Varric said once they’d settled.  “Now, every other person is on the same team.” They glanced at each other for a moment, trying to figure things out before Cullen spoke up. 

            “Everyone face this way,” he said, gesturing toward himself.  “Now, step out in the opposite direction from the person in front of you.”  Iron Bull stepped left, Cullen stepped right, and suddenly the group was divided, Iron Bull, Cassandra, Dorian, and Talia on one team, and Cullen, Blackwall, Vivienne, and Sera on the other. 

            “Nice, Curly,” Varric said, and Cullen glared.  “Ok, so we’ll do the obstacle course first.  It’s a relay – you need two people to participate.”  He pointed out the dividing line, a streamer of red plastic, between the tunnels and the ramps.  “Choose wisely, and remember the other events.” 

            Both teams huddled together, trying to choose who would participate in each event.  Talia found herself volunteered for the obstacle course, which she agreed to on the grounds that Dorian did it too. 

            “Fine,” he said, straightening his shorts.  “But you have to do the mud crawl.”  She rolled her eyes but agreed.  Varric whistled between his fingers not long after that, and she and Dorian took their places on the course. 

            The other team, however, didn’t seem to be having the same luck in getting participants.  Sera was shouting that she didn’t want to climb a stupid rope and instead wanted to run the three-legged race, while Blackwall was insisting that there was no way his back would hold up to the demands of an obstacle course.  That left Cullen to do half of it, but Vivienne was standing with her arms crossed, refusing to participate. 

            “Come on, Viv,” encouraged Blackwall, the nickname inspiring glances all around.  None of the rest of them had even had a conversation with her. 

            “Not a chance,” she said. 

Sera stomped her foot.  “Figures,” she muttered.  “Stupid prissy face, not willing to get dirty like people.”  She wandered off, still muttering to herself.  Vivienne glared daggers after her before yanking her jacket off, revealing a racer-back tank top and surprisingly toned arms. 

“Fine,” she snapped.  “You want participation? I’ll give you participation.”  She stalked toward the starting line, the wind picking up behind her as she yanked on the Fade.  Cullen could feel the residual lyrium in his blood start to sing with her magic, and the hairs on the back of his neck rose. 

“Holy shit,” whispered Iron Bull.  Vivienne’s dark skin had started to glow an eerie blue, her hands holding fists of blue-white lightning that crackled and sparked as she moved. 

“Um… take your positions, I guess…” Varric began, but Vivienne had already Fade-stepped onto the course, her legs flying through the high-step hurdles toward the monkey bars beyond. 

“Dorian, come on!” Talia shouted at the other mage, who stood frozen in awe as Vivienne flew down the course. 

“Right, right,” he muttered, shaking himself before he too started across the steps.  She could already hear his cursing from her position at the relay point.  Cullen was sprinting toward her along the outside of the course, but she could see him checking Vivienne’s position over his shoulder with every other step. 

Vivienne herself was making extraordinary progress along the monkey bars, inspiring cheers from Sera and Blackwall on the sidelines.  Even Iron Bull was cheering for her, though Talia saw Cassandra smack him in the chest. 

“She’s not on our team,” she said, trying to look unimpressed.  Bull didn’t seem to care, though he did throw in some shouts for Dorian too. 

 Dorian was huffing and puffing up the rope climb, his cursing getting more creative as he struggled.  “Go, go, go!” Talia screamed at him as beside her, Cullen did the same for Vivienne. 

“I’m going,” Dorian snapped.  Not to be outdone, he pulled up his own power to get him back to the ground safely for the last section before he reached his teammate. 

Vivienne had other ideas.  She waved a hand and Dorian froze in place, the grass under his feet growing icicles in the space of a moment.  The Tevinter mage stumbled, held upright only by the ice prison, and shouted “No fair!”  He closed his eyes for a split second before shoving his hands before him; a wall of earth lifted and crashed into the tunnels where Vivienne was crawling, the last leg before she reached Cullen. 

She gave a shout, and the icy walls around Dorian’s legs grew up to encase his crotch.  He shrieked and retaliated, a tiny thunderstorm settling over the metal tunnel where Vivienne was now trapped. 

Talia kept glancing at Cullen throughout this exchange.  As a former Templar, his skin had to be crawling with the magic crackling through the air around him, and yet he didn’t do anything.  His face was ashen though, and if she squinted, Talia could see the beginnings of sweat forming on his forehead. 

“Hey Cullen,” she called, shouting to be heard over the two mages now reduced to hurling insults at each other.  “You wanna race?”  He glanced at her, and she wiggled her eyebrows.  The message sank in quickly: _We could be here all night, so why not leave these two behind?_  

He nodded, a feral grin spreading across his features.  “You’re on, Trevelyan,” he said.  They sprinted toward the alternating ramps behind them, leaving the two mages to fight it out.   As she ran, Talia could hear Cassandra and Iron Bull cheering behind her, though Sera and Blackwall were screaming just as loud for Cullen.  The ramps below her feet were slick metal, and Cullen was a few steps ahead with his longer stride, but she knew she had an advantage – she’d agreed to the obstacle course for a reason. 

Just before the balance beams, Talia stopped and kicked off her shoes. 

Cullen glanced over his shoulder and hesitated.  “Giving up?” he called, but she ignored him.  Instead, she bent her legs and leapt straight up, landing on the slim beam and sprinting across it.  Years of yoga had given her a perfect sense of balance; she could walk a slackline without hesitating.  A five inch wide balance beam was nothing. 

From her new position in the lead, Talia glanced behind her.  Cullen was doing better than she’d expected, but his higher center of gravity was hurting him – he listed to one side, his arms spiraling as he walked. 

“Talia, CLIMB!” Cassandra bellowed, Iron Bull giving her a startled but impressed look.  Talia obeyed, sprinting to the next obstacle and starting her climb.  She worked fast, but climbing wasn’t her strong suit; despite her core strength, she wasn’t good at hauling herself up. 

Cullen, apparently, was – Talia was only halfway up when he got to the bottom, and by the time she was almost to the top, he was beside her again. 

“Templar training,” he mentioned as he passed her.  He rolled over the wall like he’d done it a million times before – since he probably had – and started the climb down. 

Still at the top, Talia pulled herself up to standing.  _Fine,_ she thought.  _He wants to show off?  I can show off._ She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, finding her balance.  Quickly she spun around, crouched, and pushed off, neatly backflipping to the ground. 

For a split second, everyone went silent.  Cullen froze on the wall, his mouth hanging open as he stared at her.

“The fuck,” muttered Iron Bull, also staring, and then Cassandra and Sera both started cheering her on. 

“Go, Tali, go!” Sera screamed, while Cassandra shouted encouragement for the last section.

She turned and ran toward the mud crawl.  No amount of gymnastic prowess could make this part go faster, and Cullen was sure to regain his wits any second. 

They’d been right; the mud crawl was deceptively shallow, and Talia sank almost to her hips as soon as she stepped in.  “Oh, ew,” she groaned, the mud squelching around her.  “I can’t believe I’m not wearing shoes.”  She started forward, trying to ignore the wet, earthy smell that rose around her, but a splash made her pause – Cullen. 

“You gotta be kidding me,” she grumbled at the gleeful look on his face. “Templar training too?”

“You’re looking at the Templar Recruit Champion right here,” he taunted, wading toward her.  She was dismayed to see that the mud barely reached his thighs. 

“Great,” she muttered, slogging forward.  “And how am I supposed to compete?” 

“You aren’t,” he replied smugly.  He was towering over her now. 

“All righty then.”  She lunged sideways, crashing into him and knocking them both off balance.  As they stumbled, she scooped up a handful of muddy water and slung it at him, catching him right in the face.  He grabbed her arm, dragging her down with him as she tried to get away. 

Both of them surfaced moments later, wiping mud out of their eyes.  Cullen gave Talia about three seconds to recover before he splashed her.  As she screamed and tried to spit it out, he made for the far end, and victory. 

Talia didn’t hesitate – she leapt at him. 

Cullen gave a shout as he fell backward, Talia scrambling for purchase on his broad but slimy shoulders.  She was dimly aware that he grabbed her legs and held on so she didn’t hurt herself as they toppled over, and then once again, everything was mud. 

Wiping her eyes and mouth, Talia pushed herself up.  Cullen was just behind her – or in front? She wasn’t sure which was she was supposed to be going anymore. 

“Tali!” Someone behind her shouted, and she spun.  Sera was kneeling at the far side of the mud pit, her hands extended.  “Come on!” 

“You’re on Cullen’s team,” Talia told her, even though she started toward the slender elf. 

“Like you better,” Sera said, and Talia heard Cullen say, “Hey!” behind her. 

"Sorry, Templar Recruit Champion," she teased, grabbing Sera's arm.  She braced a foot against the edge of the pit just as Sera yanked her arm and ended up sprawled on her front, half in and half out of the pit.  Sera landed on her ass, cackling as Talia's face landed on her stomach. 

"Got you out," she said, holding up her hand for a high-five. 

"Sure did," Talia muttered, slapping the elf's hand. 

"You two need help?" Cullen asked.  He stared down at them, hands on his trim hips and his smile broad despite the mud on his face.  "Because otherwise, I'm going to go cross the finish line." 

"Noooo!" Sera howled while Talia scrambled to get up.  Their teammates were still cheering behind them.  Sprinting after Cullen, who was sauntering toward the finish line like he didn't have a care in the world, Talia tackled him. 

She hit him low, about level with his hips, and they skidded sideways, away from the finish.  Cullen dropped, rolling so he landed on his chest and Talia sprawled across his legs and back. 

"Oh, get a room," Dorian shouted, and Iron Bull cat-called.  Heaving herself up, Talia leapt over Cullen's shoulder and made for the finish.  She didn't get far, however, when Cullen reached out and snagged her ankle with one arm.  She tripped and face-planted, catching herself on one hand.  Something popped. 

"Fuck!" She rolled over, cradling the arm to her chest.  A panicked look crossed Cullen's face and he pushed himself up, crawling over to her. 

"Shit," he said. "Let me see." 

"Don't," Talia groaned, but Cullen pried her fingers off her arm.  He could barely see her skin for the mud covering them both, but the immediate swelling was obvious enough. 

"Maker, Talia, I'm so sorry."  He reached up and brushed her muddy hair off her forehead, and despite the pain, she smiled. 

"It's okay," she whispered.  She stretched her good arm over her head, feeling for something in the grass.  When she waved her fingers in front of his face, he could see the orange paint of the finish line smeared across her fingers.  "I won." 

"Maker's breath, woman," Cullen couldn't help but laugh.  "Is that really your concern right now?" 

"Hey," Talia said, breathing hard.  "Fair is fair." 

Cullen rolled his eyes.  "Ok, you win, now let's get you up."  He adjusted his stance in the grass before tucking his arms under her knees and shoulders.  Standing, he gathered her in his arms, trying to get a good but appropriate grip around the mud. 

Dorian was behind him when he turned around, and the mage's fist hit his jaw so fast, Cullen didn't have time to flinch.  The punch connected squarely, and he staggered back, just managing to keep his balance so he didn't hurt himself.  Or Talia, again. 

"Dorian! Stop!" 

"I heard it from there," the mage snapped, his angry eyes never leaving Cullen's face.  "Your wrist's broken, or I'm qunari." 

"Hey!" piped up Iron Bull, and Talia heard Blackwall shush him. 

"It was a fair move though," she said, and Cullen glanced down at her, disbelief etched on his face.  "I did tackle him." 

"True as that may be," Dorian began, but Cullen, seeing the way Talia's face was losing color, interrupted. 

"She needs a healer, Dorian," he said, shouldering by the man.  "You can electrocute me later." 

Leaving Dorian sputtering behind him, Cullen carried Talia up to the house.  Vivienne met them at the door, ushering them into the living room so Talia could sit.  She'd taken the liberty of grabbing a clean towel for the couch.  Cullen maneuvered through the room, trying hard not to slip on the hardwood floors despite the mud on his shoes, and carefully laid Talia down.  She flinched at that small impact, her face ashen. 

"Don't worry darling, I can fix you right up," Vivienne assured her, her bedside manner much more soothing than Cullen would have predicted.  She picked up a moist towel from the bowl beside her and started cleaning the mud off Talia's skin.  The woman hissed and grabbed for Cullen, who crouched beside her and took her hand.    

"Hey," he said, lifting his other hand to her face.  "Look at me."   She did, her emerald eyes wide and full of unshed tears.  Her mouth was pressed into a tight line, and Cullen's courage failed him.  "It's, um," he began, dropping his hand.  "It'll be okay.  Vivienne's going to, ah, fix you right up, right, Viv? And then, uh, we can… go back outside, I guess, and um…" 

"I'm going to start healing you now," Vivienne announced, cutting off Cullen's rambling.  "Hold still, this will probably hurt."  She settled her hands against Talia's wrist and closed her eyes.  Cullen felt her pull on the Fade as her magic started flowing, and Talia's hand tightened on his fingers. 

His eyes flew back to hers.  "Cullen," she whispered. 

"I'm here," he said, squeezing gently back.  She nodded, her eyes pinching shut, and a minute later Vivienne leaned back, her work done. 

"Finished, darling," she said.  She handed Talia a cool cloth.  "But I would stay off it for about a day."  Patting her shoulder, the mage stood and left. 

"Talia, I am so sorry," Cullen began the moment Vivienne was out of the room, but Talia cut him off.  

"It's okay, Cullen, really," she said.  She squeezed his hand again.  "It was an accident.  And it's not like I haven't hurt myself before."    

He nodded, but he knew she wasn't convinced.  "Your color's better," he said, trying to change the subject. 

"My arm's not broken anymore," Talia replied, smirking, but it quickly faded.  She sat up, pulling her hand away from his, and reached out for him.  Once again, fingertips skimmed over his skin, this time settling on the jaw that Dorian had punched.  "Maker, are _you_ okay?"  She asked. 

Cullen ran a hand along his own jaw and found it surprisingly painful.  "Um, yes?" 

Talia raised an eyebrow at him, her hand still cupping his face.  "Liar."  She leaned closer like she wanted to tell him a secret, and the patio door crashed open. 

They leapt apart. 

"Are you going to make it," Sera hollered, Dorian on her heels.  They descended on the couch, Sera crawling into Talia's lap and Dorian wedging himself in front of Cullen.

"I'm all better," Talia told them.  They peppered her with questions about what had happened and reported that the games had been put on hold until next week so she could participate.  Sera promised she'd get Cullen back, which Talia fervently discouraged, citing Dorian's sucker punch as punishment enough.  The mage, looking offended, started rambling about how he was only trying to defend his friend, and the next thing Talia knew, they were herding her outside to watch an impromptu pool volleyball game and enjoy the evening air. 

By the time Talia was able to look for Cullen, he was gone. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry the formatting got weird halfway through! not sure how to fix it yet :) Thanks for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note the rating change! Mostly for language, some relatively mild violence.

            If anyone had asked Talia, she would have bet against the team-building exercises of the first week in Skyhold.  But she was as surprised as anyone to find that they actually worked, and the second week of living in her new home away from home found the participants getting along surprisingly well. 

            She and Dorian played chess or hung around by the pool, and Sera taught her how to make her favorite chocolate chip cranberry cookies.  Cassandra and Iron Bull sparred a few times, police vs. bodyguard, but it never escalated beyond a friendly match-up.  Cullen sat nearby and offered advice, but since he and Iron Bull were up to spar in the continuation of the games that weekend, he never stepped in the ring.  He did, however, spend a lot of time reading or working out, and before long he and Blackwall had developed a easy rapport over free weights and leg presses courtesy of Skyhold's impressive gym. 

            Inspired by Cullen's success in making friends with the gruff older man, Talia decided to make friends with her own roommate.  Cassandra, however, seemed less than open to the idea; she continued to get up with the sun to work out and withdrew most afternoons to the sauna she'd discovered next to the communal bathrooms.  Every time Talia tried to engage her in conversation, she gave noncommittal answers before excusing herself, and even their shared love of reading didn’t seem enough to crack her cold façade. 

            So Talia gave up.  Varric had offered to help her expand her writing skills to include more creative works, and when her mission with Cassandra fizzled, she took the dwarf up on his offer.  They parked themselves outside in the sun, laughing over bad romance tropes in his serial Swords and Shields ("Popular with the lonely types," he told her with a smirk) or her own ridiculous work over the latest Orlesian trends.  Dorian often lounged nearby, sunning himself while not-so-subtly watching Iron Bull swim laps or play volleyball in the pool. 

            To everyone's surprise, Vivienne stopped isolating herself -- she and Blackwall played cards or discussed politics, and one night, the two of them and Iron Bull cooked an elaborate Antivan meal for the house.  The evening turned out to be fantastic; they ate together, laughing and talking like they were all old friends, and later someone cranked the music and they pushed all the furniture out of the way in the living room to make space for dancing. 

            The resulting hangover, however, was not worth it, at least not for Talia.  She and Dorian spent the day barely conscious poolside, sipping cold drinks and bemoaning their states of existence.  When Sera bounced by in the early afternoon, a giant pile of someone's clothes in her arms, and dumped them in the pool, they barely had the energy to ask what was going on. 

            It was pretty self-explanatory however.  Since the obstacle course, Sera had made it her personal mission to make Cullen's life miserable, and no matter how much Talia tried to reign her in, damage ensued.  First the hair gel had vanished, again, although Talia had located it inside a box of tampons in the bathroom.  Cullen had just about burst into flames when she revealed its hiding place.  Second were his running shoes.  The beat-up ones he'd worn in the obstacle course were still sitting mud-covered and sad by the patio door, but his expensive ones from his morning runs with Cassandra had gone missing during the week. 

            Talia had found Sera wearing them as she tried out the obstacle course one afternoon, and she wasn't being kind -- the shoes looked destroyed, caked with mud and laces askew from her ministrations.  When Talia tried to rescue them, Sera had lobbed them into a tree, and there they still hung.  Cullen either hadn't been able to find them, or hadn't been able to get them down. 

            Talia was betting on the latter. 

            And now this.  Cullen's clothes landed in the pool as one big clump that glubbed to the bottom.  One piece, a gray shirt with the crimson Templar logo across the front, floated to the surface.  Looking on, Dorian merely shrugged and went back to his drink, but Talia got up. 

            "Really, Sera," she asked, though the blond elf was bent double with laughter and didn’t seem to care. 

            "So worth it," she cackled.  "He's got the clothes he's wearing, don't worry.  I didn't steal those."  She made a face like removing Cullen's shirt was the grossest thing she could think of, though Talia could have stood to benefit more from that scenario than any other. 

            "Pity," Dorian muttered from his lounge chair, and Talia shot him a look.  "Don't be jealous, darling," he admonished before turning his attention back to his drink. 

            "Must you two be so difficult?"  Talia demanded. 

            Sera looked at her, really looked, and for the first time, her smile faded.  "Are you mad?" 

            "It's a little childish, Sera," Talia explained. "It was an accident that I got hurt.  Cullen wasn't trying to break my arm.  I fell." 

            "He hurt you!"

            Talia undid her cover up, tossing the sarong onto her chair.  She adjusted the straps of her swimsuit to be sure it covered her scars and dipped a toe into the water.  "Intentions count," she asserted before sliding into the water.  It was warm, the heater doing wonders in addition to the sunshine of the day, and Talia dunked her head, letting the water drown out Sera's whines for a moment.  The elf didn't seem to understand that Talia harbored no ill will toward Cullen; she'd in fact quite enjoyed the race, despite its ending. 

            She surfaced and waded toward his clothes, most of which were moving gently with the water.  Sera was biting her nails and watching her.

            "Are you sure?" she asked.  Her voice trembled, and Talia sighed.  She wasn't trying to pick sides here, just get Sera to leave Cullen alone.  Other than a brief, very embarrassed exchange when she'd retrieved his hair gel, he'd been avoiding her all week, and Talia had no doubts it was at least partly the result of Sera's antics. 

            "Positive," she announced, fishing the Templar shirt off the surface of the water.  She balled it up and flung it at the elf, smacking her in the face.  Sera shrieked.   The shirt then fell to the ground with a wet splat.  "You know," she said, grabbing another piece of clothing from the water and throwing it at Sera.  The woman had recovered enough to catch it this time.  "You'd probably like Cullen if you actually talked to him instead of taking all his stuff." 

            "Nah," Sera said, "Too uptight."  She casually tossed a pair of soaked athletic shorts at Dorian, who leapt up like he'd been stabbed. 

            "What is the meaning of this," he snapped.  His hair was dripping, his sunglasses askew. 

            "Tali's being a butt," Sera explained, and Talia hurled what appeared to be Cullen's boxer briefs at her.  "Eww! Boy germs!"  She bailed, running toward the house shouting about needing a shower, and Talia laughed. 

            "Need a hand?" Dorian asked, surveying the mess.  Talia had recovered about half of the clothes Sera had dumped into the pool, but each time she moved, the water she displaced spread the remainder further away from her. 

            "Yeah, probably," she muttered.  Dorian nodded and made a pinching gesture with his hand, lifting it toward his head.  Around the pool, bubbles of purple energy appeared around Cullen's clothes, and they lifted of their own volition.  With another gesture, Dorian deposited all but one piece in a pile. 

            "This one's mine," he announced.  He made another gesture, creating an air-tight bubble around another set of soaked boxer-briefs.  "I'm off to surprise Sera.  Have fun, dear."  He waved over his shoulder and set off, leaving Talia standing in the shallow end to survey the puddle spreading under Cullen's laundry. 

            "What a douche," she muttered under her breath, not sure if she was referring to Sera or Dorian but knowing she didn't mean it either way. 

\---

            When Talia made it to her room that night, eager to get some sleep in preparation for the rest of the games tomorrow, she found Cassandra waiting for her. 

            "Can we talk?"  The dark haired woman asked her, and Talia took a seat on her bed. 

            "Um… sure," she hesitated.  Cassandra looked serious: She was sitting with her feet on the floor, her hands folded in her lap.  A braid Talia had never noticed before circled the top of her head, the heavy scar on her cheek obvious in the fluorescent lights of their bedroom. Then again, Cassandra often looked serious, so Talia wasn't sure what to make of this. 

            Cassandra's dark eyes were focused on her face, but when Talia didn't speak further, she cleared her throat and looked away.  "That was a nice thing you did for Cullen today," she said finally. 

            Talia wasn't sure how to respond to that.   "Um.  Thank you?" 

            Cassandra sighed, and ran a hand through her short hair, her whole demeanor changing.  The severity of her posture vanished as her shoulders slumped.  "I'm sorry, I'm not good at this," she explained, gesturing vaguely.  "I know you have been trying to be closer with me, and I have not been cooperative.  But I am grateful for how you are with Cullen and thought you deserved to know." 

            "Okay…"  She fidgeted from her seat on her bed, still not sure where Cassandra was going with this.  The woman stood abruptly and started pacing. 

            Talia studied her.  "I'm sorry, I'm a little confused," she said slowly.  "Perhaps I can board your train of thought somewhere?" 

            "I just… I am worried about him." 

            "And you think I can help with that?" 

            The tall woman eyed her.  "He seems to care about you," she explained.  "But he is not… I do not…"  She groaned and rubbed a hand over her eyes.  "Cullen is my best friend, " she blurted out.  "He's only here because of me, and I do not wish to see him get hurt."  She rounded on Talia, towering over her, and suddenly Talia was reminded that Cassandra was a high-ranking police officer.  "You are not going to hurt him, are you?" 

            Talia shrank back.  "Of course not! But I'm also not sure what you're talking about.  Still." 

            Cassandra sighed and dropped back onto her bed looking defeated.  "He flirts with you," she explained, more to the floor than to Talia.  "I have not seen him do that in all the time I have known him."

            All the pieces dropped into place, and Talia couldn't help the awkward chuckle that left her.  "Uh, not to discount your opinion since you've known him a long time, but his flirting technique isn't great.  Lots of crying and avoidance, some broken bones…" 

            Cassandra nodded, her face tight.  "I am aware that he may need some help," she allowed. 

            That earned a bigger laugh from Talia.  "I'm inclined to agree." 

            "I would ask… that you be patient with him," Cassandra said, her thick Nevarran accent clipping her words.  "If you are truly, ah, interested, that is." 

            Talia buried her face in her hands, her ears going red. "What a fun conversation to be recorded for national television," she groaned out, and Cassandra's eyes widened. 

            "I admit, I'd forgotten," she said, a rough laugh forcing itself out of her.  The sound was rusty, like she hadn't used it in a very long time, but she smiled anyway.  "Even so.  It is necessary." 

            Talia didn't look up -- she didn't think she could keep going if she had to think about what her face looked like right now.  "Cassandra, how am I supposed to do anything if the man won't talk to me?"   

            "That is why I ask for your patience," Cassandra answered.  She touched Talia's shoulder hesitantly, and the younger woman looked up.  "Cullen seeks guidance, and peace.  He has not had… the easiest life.  But he is a worthwhile man." 

            "Yeah well," Talia said, getting up.  She didn't know what she felt for Cullen beyond basic attraction, and his tactics of avoiding her or blushing out of control in lieu of talking to her this past week weren't helping.  "None of that matters if he won't come near me." 

            Cassandra stood too, reaching for Talia as if to beg her.  "Nonetheless," she began.  "Please.  You have been kind to him; all I ask is that you continue.  He will come around." 

            Talia glanced at her as she changed into her pajamas, eager to avoid her gaze.  "I haven't really seen him," she sighed.  "But I'll try." 

            "Thank you," her roommate replied.  "You can find him in the library often.  Or the chapel." 

            "What, now?" 

            "No," Cassandra rushed to say. "Of course not.  Just… in general.  And Talia?" 

            She turned back to her.  This had been one of the most awkward, confusing conversations she'd ever had.  What else could this woman want? 

            "I… would like to be friends, if you'd have me."  Cassandra studied her shoes, her hands twisting around each other. 

            Talia smiled.  "I'm not sure Cullen is enough of a commonality for a friendship," she joked. 

            Cassandra looked up, saw that Talia's smile was genuine, and smiled back.  "No," she replied, warmth finally entering her voice.  "But have you ever read Swords and Shields?" 

\---

            The obstacle course still decorated Skyhold's backyard when the participants turned out for part two of game night.  Sera was already there, hanging by her knees from the monkey bars and giggling at her own antics.  There were still four other events, include tug of war and an ultimate frisbee game that was likely to turn violent, before Varric would declare an official winner, and so the teams discussed their tactics, shouting insults and taunts at each other as they took their places. 

            When they were finally ready, Varric got them all lined up for the three-legged race. 

            "Remember," he began. "It's gotta be a fair race this time.  None of that magic nonsense like last time."  He shot Dorian and Vivienne a significant look.  Vivienne pursed her lips and picked at her nails, while Dorian ran a fingertip over his mustache, muttering, "I don't have any idea what you're talking about," and staring anywhere but at Varric. 

            "Yeah, whatever you two.  Okay, we ready?"  He turned to the teams gathered at the starting lines. 

            Blackwall and Sera stepped up, Cullen helping them tie their legs together with a belt.  Cassandra was already waiting for Dorian, who looked less than enthused, when Iron Bull stepped up. 

            "We're taking over," he said.  He leaned over to Talia, who had been watching Cullen work as unobtrusively as possible, and scooped her up. 

            She squealed.  Bull laughed, that uproarious sound pouring out of him, and swung her up onto his shoulders.  "Bull, what the fuck!"  Her hands wrapped around his horns, a metaphor she didn't want to begin to think about. 

            "What? We're racing," he said, shrugging. Talia tried to settle herself on his shoulders. 

            From below, Blackwall and Sera stared up at them.  "It's supposed to be a three-legged race," Blackwall said, crossing his arms.  Strapped in beside him, Sera was bouncing in place, causing Blackwall's beard to bounce with her. 

            "Oh, don't you worry," Iron Bull said, and Talia just knew he was giving them that odd one-eyed wink.  "With this pretty lady wrapped around me, it will be." 

            "Ewwww…" she grumbled, and Bull laughed again, throwing his head back and causing Talia to wrap her legs even tighter around his chest. 

            "Enough, Bull," Dorian groaned.  He shoved the qunari as hard as he could, and Bull shifted about two inches.  "I'm here, and Cassandra's ready to go."  The Seeker stepped up and Cullen, producing another belt, proceeded to tie them together too. 

            "Spoil sports," Bull said, though he stepped back from the starting line.  "You okay up there, girl?" 

            Now that she'd gotten used to it, Talia, surprisingly, was.  She could see well, and balancing against Bull's horns, while phallic, was actually comfortable.  "Just no sudden movements," she called down.  "That got my arm broken last time."  Cullen's gaze flew to her, his cheeks reddening, and she smiled.  She may not have run into him for any serious conversations today, but talking to Cassandra last night had reassured her that perhaps he was worth her time, so she winked at him. 

            He reddened further, but in the few ensuing minutes while their teammates raced, she caught him glancing over at her more than once. 

            Blackwall and Sera were far more successful than Cassandra and Dorian, who spent most of the race bitching at each other.  She seemed to have a problem with his being from Tevinter, and Dorian could needle anyone about anything -- he'd chosen Cassandra's trademark scowl for this particular event, and she'd stopped mid-race to shout, while he'd gestured about some wrinkle of irritation that appeared between her eyebrows. 

            Bull, Talia, and Cullen stared from the sidelines.  "If I didn't know better," Cullen said.  "I'd say there were some unresolved issues between those two." 

            "There are," Bull replied. "They just aren't going to get over them the fun way, if you know what I mean."  Cullen certainly did, for his face turned scarlet.  Still sitting on Bull's shoulders, Talia tried to contain her laughter to no avail. 

            Tug of war went to Iron Bull’s team, to no one’s surprise.  Blackwall and Cullen put up a valiant effort, to be true, but between Sera’s inability to pay attention to the game for more than a few moments and Iron Bull’s enormous physique, there was really no contest.  They flailed back and forth for a few moments, Cassandra, Talia, and Dorian doing pretty well against the other team, and then Bull stepped up, gave an enormous yank, and everyone else went tumbling down. 

            Frisbee went much the same way, though in favor of Vivienne’s team this time.  Sera’s lithe frame and short attention span turned out to be a huge advantage as she flitted about the backyard, and Cullen was surprisingly adept at predicting just where his teammates were going to throw the disc.  Talia suspected there may have been some magical assistance from Vivienne, but it didn’t help that Iron Bull missed by more than two feet every time he leapt for the disc, and Cassandra kept ‘accidentally’ running Dorian over as punishment for their earlier debacle with the three legged race. 

            That left the two teams evenly matched for the fifth and final event, the sparring match.  Varric explained that it would be a competition and not an all out brawl, citing the show's desire to avoid serious injuries or lawsuits.  He gave the two cops and the bodyguard significant looks, and all but Iron Bull looked properly rebuked. 

            No matter her argument, Cassandra couldn’t convince Iron Bull to let her be the one in the ring, and over on the other team, Cullen had already stepped up and started wrapping his hands.

            “He takes this shit seriously,” Bull said, stepping into the ring.  He had forgone all protective items, including gloves or a helmet. 

            The rest of his teammates stood just outside the rails.  Talia studied Cullen, who had finished one hand and was meticulously wrapping his other.  Not a bit was wasted; he threaded the weave between each finger and then around his hand and wrist several times.   She couldn't help but wonder what those hands would feel like on her skin, the same intense focus paid to her body that he was now giving to his task. 

            With a start, Talia remembered where she was and blushed.  Luckily it didn't seem like anyone had noticed the way her eyes followed Cullen's every movement.  Beside her, Cassandra made a disgusted noise, and Talia turned back to her tem.  “I told you, you should let me do this,” she insisted, but Bull dismissed her with a wave of his hands. 

            “Let him be,” Dorian said.  “If the great horned menace wants to hurt himself, who are we to stop him?” 

            “That’s right!”  Bull yanked his tank top off and flexed.  Behind him, Cassandra rolled her eyes, but Dorian’s face lit up. 

            Talia elbowed him.  “Subtle,” she said.  Dorian glared at her. 

            “As if your ogling is a secret.”  She smacked him, and he laughed. 

            “Gentlemen, are we ready?” Varric called, stepping into the center of the ring.  Iron Bull stood on his side, posturing ridiculously for his team as well as the cameras, while opposite him waited Cullen, his taped hands flexing at his sides.  He nodded, while Iron Bull gave a lewd laugh and lumbered toward him.  “No head shots, crotch shots, or broken bones, if possible,” Varric added upon seeing the look on Iron Bull’s face. 

            “No promises,” he laughed.   

            Cullen didn’t even flinch.  “Agreed,” he said, surprising Talia.  Really? He was okay with crotch shots, head shots?  But it didn’t take long to realize why. 

            Bull gave a few experimental swings at Cullen, who stepped out of the way with little effort.  He didn’t make a big show of their squaring off, no flailing arms or anything, and instead seemed to just wait patiently for Bull to get fed up and swing at him for real. 

            They danced around each other for a while, but getting to the real fighting didn’t take long.  Bull lunged at him, his huge hand clenched in a fist, and Cullen deftly smacked it away and down.  As he did, his other arm came up, his fist connecting with the side of Iron Bull’s head, just catching his ear. 

            Bull howled and leapt away.  “That stung, that stung,” he sang, backing away and clutching his ear.  Sera and Blackwall cheered, even Vivienne smiling a bit, while Cassandra crossed her arms over her chest. 

            Once Bull recovered, he threw himself into all-out war, his fists flying, but it was soon apparent that while size and strength were on his size, Cullen was fast. 

            _Maker_ , the man was fast.  Each punch Bull threw, be it aimed for face, gut, or anything else, Cullen blocked without effort, and his counters weren't just aimed for obvious hits.  There was no way he stood a chance against Bull’s sheer mass, so he focused his energies on weak spots, striking knees and ears with deadly accuracy.   One brutal punch caught Bull in the throat, sending the huge qunari staggering backward, and even though he kept his feet, he wasn’t quick enough to recover before Cullen had thrown a rapid series of strikes that pounded his face and shoulders. 

            He stepped back then, likely trying to do the gentlemanly thing and give Bull some time to recover, but the bodyguard didn’t see it that way.  “You giving up?” He shouted, following the   accusation up with some colorful genitalia-related language. 

            “Not a chance,” Cullen shot back,  adding his own insults to the mix.  Talia expected him to blush, but his embarrassment was nowhere to be found in the heat of a fight. 

            "They're so getting censored," Varric muttered, smirking. 

            Before them, Cullen bounced back and forth on the balls of his feet, fists clenched. 

            “Then you asked for it.”  Bull dropped his head and charged, Talia and the others either gasping or shouting behind him.  For a backyard competition, horns were a little too much.  In fact for any competition, they were too much, but Bull ignored their cries. 

            As did Cullen – as soon as he saw Bull coming, he tensed up, the play of his muscles revealed by a shirt clinging to him with sweat.  At the last second, he stepped out of the way, darting one leg back in to catch under Bull’s charging feet and tangle them, sending the qunari crashing down. 

            Not for long.  Bull lunged back up, swinging a wild hook that caught Cullen unaware.  He stumbled backward, his nose bleeding. 

            “Cullen!”  Talia shouted from the sidelines, forgetting that she was supposed to be rooting for Iron Bull.   He wiped his nose on his wrist, streaking the tape with blood, and gave her a jaunty wink that was entirely un-Cullen-like before squaring his shoulders and pouncing on Bull. 

            “What the hell just happened?”  Talia asked Cassandra.  She'd never seen a display quite like this. 

            The cop stood with her arms crossed over her chest, a scowl on her face.  “He shouldn’t be doing this,” she said, ignoring Talia’s question. 

            “What do you mean?”  Talia hung her elbows over the rails and leaned into the older woman’s shoulder to get a better look at the fight. 

            Cassandra’s eyes didn’t leave the men in front of her, especially not when Cullen’s latest block turned into a hard slap against Bull’s injured ear. The qunari stumbled, and Cullen thrust his knee into his chest as he did, sending him backward.  “Cullen has years of military and Special Forces training to his name,” she growled.  “Bull’s a bodyguard.  He doesn’t stand a chance.” 

            Talia considered this information as she watched Bull try to change tactics. A heavy kick was aimed at Cullen’s gut, but the smaller man caught it and flung a forceful kick into Bull’s knee, spinning him like a top.  She had been considering asking if Cassandra was sure, but that seemed self-explanatory now.  Opposite them, Blackwall, Sera, and even Varric were cheering with all their might, shouts of encouragement mixing with commands to “Take him down!” or “Destroy him!” as they watched their teammate spar.  The fight didn’t have much longer now, not when Bull was breathing hard, a series of bruises showing up on his gray skin. 

            But Cullen made the foolish mistake of taking things easier on Bull as soon as he started breathing hard.  His blocks slowed, the force behind his strikes fading.  Each punch Bull threw was deflected a little slower, and Talia wasn’t sure whether Cullen’s strength was waning or if he just felt bad for beating the shite out of the bigger man on camera. 

            Beside her, Cassandra glared and ground her teeth, muttering advice or criticisms with each move.  “Cullen, don’t fall for it,” she hissed just as he threw a punch, her dark eyes following each movement far better than Talia ever could. 

            “Fall for what?”  From her uninformed perspective, Cullen was winning. 

            Cassandra leaned over so Talia could hear, though her eyes didn’t leave the ring.  “Watch Bull's feet.  See how fast they move?” 

            She was right – Bull’s shoulders might have been sagging like he was struggling and he might have been breathing like he was out of breath, but his feet moved faster than ever, putting him in the exact right positions to roll with each strike.  It looked like he was taking damage, but it wasn't nearly as bad as he wanted them to believe.    

            “Oh shit,” Talia muttered, and Cassandra grunted her agreement. 

            Unfortunately, Cullen was sucked right in.  Even as his nose continued to bleed, his smile grew feral, a predator closing in for the kill.  He lined himself up, squaring his shoulders, and Talia watched Bull’s feet move to block. 

With the next move, Bull went all in.  He feigned a lunge before catching Cullen’s fist effortlessly and kneeing him in the groin.  Cullen doubled over with a grunt, and with a speed that was near-blinding, Bull smashed a solid forearm into the back of his neck.  He tried to block as he fell, his arms crossed in front of his face, and Talia heard his grunt as Bull caught him in the chest with his knee. 

Dorian and Sera both cheered as Cullen fell to one knee, barely keeping himself up, and Bull spun in the ring, his arms up in victory.  Cassandra stood stony-faced, however, her arms crossed over her chest, and Talia was already in the process of climbing over the rails to see if Cullen was okay. 

“What?” Bull asked, incredulous at their lack of enthusiasm. 

            Across the ring, Blackwall growled, “That was a chicken shit move, Bull.”  The older man’s posture mirrored Cassandra’s.  

            Bull turned to him.  “Anything to win, right,” he shot back, and Varric nodded slowly, looking unconvinced. 

            Behind him, though he hadn't noticed yet, Cullen had climbed to his feet.  He waved Talia off, and she stopped her climb, one leg thrown over the top railing.  Cassandra put her hand on Talia's shoulder and squeezed.  In the ring, Cullen shook his arms out, re-centering himself to continue the fight. 

            When Bull turned around, responding to pointing and squealing from Sera, he was already too late.  Cullen flew over the space between himself and the qunari before launching himself up, his right fist coming down in a brutal punch that caught Bull's cheekbone and burst the skin.  Blood sprayed, and Bull lurched backward. 

            Cullen was already moving after him.  "Cullen…" Cassandra called, but the blonde man didn't turn. 

            "I'm finishing it, Cass," he ground out.  Bull lunged, one combat-booted foot on a collision course with his opponent's ribs, but Cullen caught it, his arm wrapping around Bull's thigh and yanking the bigger man toward him.  His opposite fist caught Bull on the same bloody cheek once, twice, and he planted a foot just behind the qunari's ankle, yanking his leg out from under him.  Bull hit the ground with a crash that almost unseated Talia from the ring's railing.  In an instant, Cullen had flipped the qunari's leg across his body, his fist connecting one last time for good measure.  He pinned him down, his foot planted in Bull's ribs, and Bull's hands flew to protect his face. 

            "I give," he grunted.  Cullen hovered over him for an extra second before he stepped back.  His team exploded into cheers, and across the ring, even Iron Bull's team couldn't help their own shouts.  Varric stepped up. 

            "I believe we have a winner," he said, gesturing toward Cullen, who grinned and extended a hand to help Bull up.  The qunari braced all his weight against Cullen, whose smile turned into a grimace as he gamely pulled him to standing. 

            "Nice," Bull chuckled.  He touched his cheekbone, fingers coming away bloody.  "How the fuck did you manage that?" 

            Cullen shrugged, already unwinding the tape from his hands.  He wiped the blood from his nose again as he spoke.  "Ex-Templar, remember?" 

            "And Special Forces," Cassandra chimed in.  Her arms were still crossed, though a tiny smile was threatening to break through her tough expression.

            Bull glanced between them.  "Is that why you wanted me to let you fight?"  She nodded, and Bull grunted.  "Shoulda listened."  He held out a hand to Cullen.  "Good match, Rutherford." 

            "And you," Cullen said, clasping his hand.  The two men climbed out of the ring to the continued cheers of their housemates.  As soon as Cullen's feet hit the grass, Sera leapt at him. 

            "You won!" She shouted, giving him a bear hug before darting to hug Blackwall and Vivienne.  "An' that means we won!"  The realization flew across their faces. 

            "Game night champs right there," Varric shouted, and despite their team's loss, Dorian and Talia cheered right along with them.  Even Iron Bull grinned, the blood running down his face making for a gruesome smile. 

            "Bull," Vivienne called as the cheering died down.  "Let me look at that." 

            "Yes ma'am," he dutifully said.  He wiggled his eyebrows at Dorian, who instantly bailed to follow the qunari inside. 

            Varric glanced around at everyone else.  "Pool?" he suggested, and Sera's face lit up. 

            "Volleyball!" She shouted, taking off at a sprint for the house and her swimsuit.  Blackwall and Varric followed. 

            Talia lingered behind to talk to Cullen, who was being lectured by Cassandra.  "You should have known better," the tall woman was saying.  "Special Forces against a bodyguard?  Bull didn't have a chance." 

            Cullen didn't bother looking up, just continued to unwrap his hands.  His nose was still bleeding, though the dripping had slowed as it clotted.  "He's a street fight kind of guy, Cass," he said.  "I knew it'd be dirty, and that made it fair."  Cassandra snorted like she didn't believe him, and he just shrugged.  "Why didn't you fight me then?" 

            Talia spoke up from where she'd been watching.  "She tried to, actually, and Bull wouldn't let her."  That made Cullen pause. 

            "Really?"  He looked at Cassandra.  "Then on behalf of my team's victory, may I say thank you to Bull for being so stubborn?"  He gave his friend a cheeky smile, and she made a disgusted noise. 

            Talia smiled.  They bickered like siblings, and it was getting easier to see why Cassandra had been so protective of him the night before.  "Why would Cassandra have automatically won?" She asked, looking between them.  When he just chuckled and said, "Well, it wouldn't be an automatic win," Cassandra gave him a dirty look. 

            "Because I've sparred against Cullen for years," she said.  Without warning, she flicked her foot out and kicked Cullen in the side of his knee. 

            He crumpled, a muffled shout of pain coming from his new position on his ass. 

            "What the fuck, Cass," he growled, irritation in his voice.  Talia gaped as she just made a face and shrugged. 

            "Just demonstrating my superior technique," the Seeker said, her face blank but the corner of her mouth twitching.  Laughter bubbled up from Talia's chest, and she put her hand over her mouth, trying to suppress it.  Cassandra glanced at her, and the mirth caught.  Within moments, the two women were almost on the ground, leaning on each other with laughter pouring out of them. 

            Cullen glared.

            "Hey," Talia choked out, her laughter making it hard to talk.  "At least your arm's not broken."  Cassandra laughed even harder. 

            "Yeah, but my nose probably is," he grumbled.  "And now my knee's out too." 

            Cassandra turned away, still laughing.  "Vivienne will fix you right up," she called back, leaving Talia and Cullen behind. 

            Cullen didn't look convinced.  "Yeah, sure," he said.  He worked his other leg under him and tried to stand, falling sideways as his knee gave out again.  Talia leaned in and caught him, her arm around his lower back.  He was sweaty but warm, and she was surprised to find she didn't mind the sweat so much. 

            "Thanks," he said softly.  When she glanced up at him, she found that he'd blushed hard at her touch. 

            "Sure."  He tried to take a step forward and nearly fell when Talia's arm lost its snug position against him.  "Hey," she said, trying to keep the laughter from her voice.  "Why don't you let me help?" 

            Cullen glanced at her.  "Ah. Right."  He hesitantly put his arm around her shoulders. 

            "With actual weight," she reminded him.  "I won't break." 

            He blushed again but leaned a little closer, some of his body weight settling against her.  They took a few careful steps until they found a rhythm that worked and made for the house.  Once there, Vivienne gave them an irritated look before setting to work, muttering about poor flirting techniques as she fixed Cullen's nose. 

            The two of them avoided each other's eyes.  Vivienne moved on to Cullen's knee, not even bothering to ask what happened, and even though Talia's fingers itched to take his hand when he flinched and closed his eyes, she didn't. 

            Within minutes, Vivienne shooed them out of the living room, insisting that they go change for the party that was booting up outside.  Her mothering attitude might have been a change from the cold, more indifferent approach of the first week of this little reality show experiment, but Talia wasn't sure she liked it better as they dutifully got up and headed to the dorms to change.  Cullen, she noticed, was still limping. 

            She pointed this out. 

            He hesitated before he answered, straightening himself up until he was standing normally again.  "Vivienne fixed the dislocation, but the ligaments are… loose.  It'll go away in a few days."  Talia noticed he tried to look nonchalant about it, but his knee clearly hurt; she could see the lines on his face tighten with pain. 

            Stepping closer, she hesitated as she reached for him.  "Do you need any help?"  Cullen hesitated, his gaze focused on her hand as he considered her offer. 

            "I'm okay," he said after a moment.  

            Talia nodded, her heart sinking a little.  She didn't want to admit how hopeful she'd been that he would say yes.  "I'm sorry Cassandra kicked you," she said instead, resuming her walk down the hall. 

            "Me too," he said ruefully before he shrugged.  "It'll heal.  Magic's never worked on this part, so I'm used to it." 

            "What happened?"  The question seemed innocent enough, but Cullen's face clouded at her words. 

            "I, uh," he began, and then their steps took them in sight of their rooms.  Talia stopped so she could listen, but Cullen brushed past her and made straight for his door.  "I was in an accident." 

            "Oh," was all she could say in response.  A hundred questions shot through her mind: What kind of accident? When? What had happened?  Did Cassandra know about it?  She was wondering if she should even ask when he opened the door to his room, his back to her. 

            "I'll see you later," he said abruptly.  He offered her a tight smile over his shoulder, those lines of pain still surrounding his eyes, and stepped inside. 

            The door clicked closed before Talia could figure out anything to say, and even though she changed and tried to wait for him before heading back to the pool party, the door didn't open again. 


	6. Chapter 6

            Blackwall was almost done with his workout by the time Cullen joined him in the gym, and he grunted a greeting, his expression tight as he worked through a set of deadlifts.  Cullen said hello in response, tossing a towel and his water bottle onto the chair near the mat. 

            Nearly a week had passed since Cassandra kicked him, and the ligaments in his knee had finally settled enough that he could work out again.  It was a welcome relief -- physical exertion cleared his mind like nothing else, and in the last few days, he'd felt cloudy and unfocused in just about everything he did. 

            He wanted to blame it on the withdrawal, he really did.  But, as his body's eager response to jogging in place clearly indicated, the withdrawal wasn’t all that bad.  Some smaller things were worse; sleeping through the night was increasingly difficult, and he often woke with headaches, but nothing more serious had yet manifested.  His muscles felt as strong as ever, and though he still felt nauseated at times, he hadn't thrown up since that morning two weeks before. 

            No, something else was eating at him, something he couldn't let himself think about lest he make it so much worse.  For the past week, he'd done little else except think about it.  Now, with his knee healed, he could finally have some relief.  In the gym, thank the Maker, he could forget everything else, forget this ridiculous reality TV experiment, and just _be_. 

            He rolled through his warm-up, the calisthenics loosening his muscles enough to stretch.  Once completed, he grabbed a set of free weights, moving through a complicated back and chest series in less time than it took Blackwall to towel off and head to the sauna.  While the strain of the weights felt good, they weren't enough, and so he moved on to body weight resistance, hoping that if he moved more, he could find the clarity he needed. 

            But three rounds of push-ups, squats, and sit-ups later, Cullen couldn't push the thought away any longer:  He was distracted by Talia Trevelyan, and there was no denying it. 

            He flopped backward on the mat, his t-shirt clinging to his heaving chest. 

            _Maker's breath_. 

            Nothing he did lessened the ache in his chest when he thought of her.  His skin tingled with the thought of her touch along his jaw, her hand in his as he tried to comfort her after the obstacle course.  He could still feel her knees pressed against his under the blanket that night weeks before, her hands roving over his face in search of a smile.  Her arm around his waist as she helped him into the house haunted him, as did the feather-light touch of her fingertips tracing over the scar on his lips.  In all his life, Cullen had never craved touch, never thought about what he was missing and content on his own.  Now he knew, and he couldn’t stop thinking about it. 

            _Maker_ , but he wanted to kiss her.

            That familiar fog settled back over his mind as the thought crossed it.  Launching into another set of push-ups and squats, Cullen tried to push it away, tried until his chest burned, his thighs on fire, and still he could not think of anything but how her lips might feel against his, his hand tangled in her hair.  Her arms would slid around him, pulling him closer until he could feel her entire body against his, and he would hold her just as close, perhaps begging entrance to her mouth with his tongue, and she'd open to him, and --

            Shame burned through his body along with effort now, his desire a little too obvious in the athletic shorts he wore, and he threw himself into a set of sit-ups,  willing himself to think of anything other than the feel of her under his hands. 

            He didn’t deserve her attentions, not even a little.  Since the night of his sparring victory, he'd avoided her entirely.   The pool party had been roaring by the time he made it outside, his teammates greeting him with cheers and Iron Bull slapping his shoulder so hard Cullen almost fell over.  No one had noticed that he didn’t say much – he was often quiet, so it didn’t seem out of the ordinary – and once everyone was eating or playing volleyball, no one gave him a second look. 

            No one except Talia, who glanced at him several times but didn’t move toward him, didn’t talk to him, didn’t do anything at all. 

            That hurt more than his trick knee, though he couldn’t admit why.   

_You want her to like you_ , his subconscious whispered, but he pushed that thought far from him, down, away, where he couldn’t linger on it. 

            Every moment with her just reminded him of what he was capable of.  Though it had been an accident, he couldn’t shake the cold weight in his stomach when he recalled the sound her arm made as she hit the ground.  And while he hadn't done anything to physically hurt her since -- nor would he ever, consciously -- he'd pushed her away emotionally too, unwilling to open up to her about anything that really mattered in his screwed up life. 

            He didn’t want her to get hurt.  Better that he stay away, and wonder what could have been if he wasn’t such a coward. 

            He ran his hands over his face, groaning into his fists as he tried to stop turning the past weeks over in his mind.  When it didn't work, he got up and went through his free weight routine again.  If he could make his body hurt, maybe everything else would fade away. 

            No such luck. 

            As he did another set of pull-ups, he wondered how in Thedas he was going to get past these feelings.   He had to -- there was no future here, no chance she could want someone as damaged as he, nor was he willing to risk hurting her.  He didn't even know if he _had_ a future, what with the low likelihood of his success in breaking free of lyrium's leash.   How could he ask her to have any part in the mess of his life? 

            But as he worked himself ever closer to exhaustion, he realized that that was exactly what he wanted. 

            It was wildly unreasonable, this desire to be with her he felt pulling on his heart.  He'd known her for three weeks.  They were part of a reality show where their every movement was potentially broadcast for all of Thedas to see.  He was a recovering addict, a broken man, and she was kind and talented and funny and all those things he would never deserve in a hundred years of atonement. 

            Yet he couldn't push his feelings away.  If he could only explain everything, then maybe they could start over.  If he could give her something other than a broken arm, or do something other than mumble or have break-downs in her presence, things could be different.  He could be the suave guy to sweep her off her feet, the man he wanted to be but couldn’t in the midst of his stuttering and fumbling and blushing and everything else. 

            Despite the smiles she gave him, the flirting they'd done, he was so afraid he’d ruined any chance of her being interested. 

            The sheer weight of that thought coupled with his workout finally exhausted him.  He finished the last two squats of the set and grabbed his water bottle, sliding to the floor.  He hadn't realized, but he was absolutely drenched in sweat, much more so than usual, his heart rate flying.  _It's just because I worked out for longer than usual_ , he thought, but he knew that wasn't true. 

            Heaving himself to his feet, he stretched quickly and headed for the communal bathrooms.  Maker knew he needed a shower, a cold one, and soon. 

            But the Maker also had a wry sense of humor, for just as he'd lifted the tail of his shirt to wipe his face, Talia appeared. 

            Cullen froze, shirt still in hand and his abs exposed. 

            "Hi, Cullen," Talia said cheerfully as she approached.  She was trying to put her hair up in a ponytail as she walked, the low cut of her tank top revealing the hot pink of her sports bra. 

            "Uh… Hello, I um," Cullen replied.  Talia paused just before him, giving him a quizzical look. 

            "Everything okay?"  Her eyes flicked over him, and he felt a burst of heat when they lingered on his stomach. 

            "Yes!"  The enthusiasm in his voice sounded suspicious, even to him.  She gave him a look, her lips in a smirk and one eyebrow lifted at him.  He tried to give her a casual smile as he dropped his shirt.   "Just headed for the, um, shower." 

            "Gotcha," she said, still looking amused.  Her smirk spread, laughter dancing in her eyes.  "Well, have fun."  She winked and kept walking, and Cullen nearly choked as he caught the suggestion in her words. 

            "Not like that!"  He forced out, whirling around, and her laughter came drifting back to him. 

            "Later, Cullen," she called as she disappeared, and he blushed, heat spreading all the way down his sweaty chest.  Maker's _breath_ , but she would be the death of him. 

            When he emerged from his decidedly not fun shower, Cullen realized he'd forgotten to grab a change of clothes.  He shuffled to his bedroom wearing only a towel, fingers crossed that Blackwall wasn't there.  Thankfully, that was correct, and he changed quickly, eager to hide his scars from the cameras.  He almost never changed anywhere other than the bathrooms for that exact reason. 

            When he'd found a reasonably clean pair of jeans and a shirt, he headed for the kitchen.  His head was still swimming with thoughts of Talia;  he could see her smile, hear her laughter as she teased him, and he knew he was in trouble.  The kitchen offered little refuge though, for as soon as he finished making a sandwich, Dorian appeared. 

            "We need you to help us settle an argument," he said, gesturing toward the living room.

            "Who's 'we'?"  Cullen asked, digging in the fridge for an orange.  He didn't mind Dorian, especially since he'd discovered the man enjoyed chess earlier that week, but he remained wary -- the Tevinter loved to tease him about Talia, despite Cullen's protests. 

            "Iron Bull and I," Dorian said.  He latched onto Cullen's arm, pulling him away from the fridge.  "Come here."  He tugged, and Cullen had little choice but to follow, swiping his sandwich off the counter as he went. 

            Iron Bull was sprawled across the loveseat, his horns taking up what little space his body left behind.  "Cullen!" He shouted, waving him in.  "Sit! Join us!"  Dorian released him once he was sure Cullen wasn't going to sprint away, and he settled into one of the overstuffed armchairs.  From the corner of the room, Cassandra gave him a small smile and re-settled herself with her book.  Cullen wasn't fooled; Cass's eyes weren't moving as she 'read,' so she was clearly eavesdropping.  Whatever they wanted to know must be good. 

            Before he could ask, Dorian spoke.  "We need another opinion," he said.  He glanced at Cassandra, the smirk under his mustache indicating that he too was aware she wasn't really reading.  "A male opinion." 

            "Shoot," Cullen said, taking a bite of his sandwich. Anything to keep him distracted. 

            "How do you masturbate now that you're on camera all the time?"  Dorian asked, and Cullen nearly choked.  While Iron Bull roared with laughter, the mage pounded on his back. 

            When he'd finally cleared his airway, he looked between the two men, his eyes watering.  "I cannot have heard that right." 

            From the corner, Cassandra spoke up.  "They've been arguing over it for close to half an hour," she said.  "I can vouch for it." 

            Iron Bull wiggled his eyebrows at her, his horns bobbing.  "She's coming around, I can tell," he said.  Cassandra rolled her eyes and re-directed her attention at her book.  For a brief moment, her eyes actually started moving. 

            "I'm not fooled by that reading act, Cassandra," Dorian told her.

            "Maybe she wants to ride the Bull," Iron Bull intoned, and Cassandra made a disgusted noise.  Iron Bull roared with laughter. 

            Throughout this exchange, Cullen's eyes flew between them, wondering what on earth he'd been dragged into.  He took another tentative bite of his sandwich just in time for Dorian to turn back to him. 

            "So, Templar," he said.  "How about it?"  Cullen just shook his head.  Dorian's eyebrows rose, and Iron Bull's laughter settled to stare at him. 

            "You cannot be serious," Dorian said. 

            "No fucking way," Iron Bull said. 

            Cassandra groaned.  "This is disgusting," she said, but she too looked expectantly at Cullen. 

            He finished chewing before answer, trying desperately to think of something to say.  "I just… don't," he said finally. 

            Iron Bull leaned back in his seat, a stunned look on his face.  "I… didn't even know that was an option," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. 

            Dorian was still staring at Cullen.  "I don't believe you."

            "Maybe he's just careful about it," Bull said.  "I mean, for the first week or so, I only did it in the bathrooms." 

            Cassandra made a face.  "Only for the first week?" 

            Dorian looked positively elated.  "Where do you enjoy yourself now?" 

            Iron Bull leaned in, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper.  "Anywhere I want." 

            "Oh, how I hope I walk into that room," Cassandra muttered, her voice heavy with sarcasm. 

            Dorian fanned himself.  "Me too!"  He sounded a little too enthusiastic, and Cullen flushed, trying to eat quickly and get the hell out of this conversation.  Iron Bull was now explaining that since someone stole his underwear the first week, he'd had a lot more 'freedom,' and Dorian was not-so-subtly suggesting that he share the love. 

            Cullen got up, his sandwich gone.  He still wanted an orange, and perhaps now that the two of them were flirting so heavily, he could escape. 

            "Don't leave me with these two," Cassandra snapped the second he moved. 

            "Oh, no, you can't leave until you tell me the truth," Dorian demanded, his attention diverted.  "I need to know how the second prettiest man in the house manages." 

            "Hey!" Iron Bull grumbled, but Dorian merely waved him off. 

            Cullen begrudgingly sat.  "I really don't want to talk about this," he said. 

            "Come on," Iron Bull said.  "It's nothing weird.  And you're military, you must have heard all this before." 

            Cullen opened his mouth to respond, but Cassandra got there first.  "Cullen doesn't engage in that kind of nonsense talk." 

            Both Dorian and Bull turned to stare at her.  "Really?" said Dorian.  "How is that possible?"  Cassandra launched into a speech about rules and regulations, and since Cullen knew it was headed toward his own label as the biggest tight-ass in the Kirkwall unit, he tuned out.  Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath.

            Cassandra was telling the truth -- he didn't engage in that kind of shop talk with his fellow officers or, back in the day, fellow soldiers.  For a while, it had been because of Kinloch and what had happened there; talking about sex brought all sorts of unpleasant memories bubbling to the surface, and while his Templar-appointed therapist had helped him get used to it, it was still an uncomfortable topic.  Over time, new experiences had helped him normalize sex again in his mind, and his triggers were far less dangerous now than they had once been, but he still didn't like to talk about it. 

            When he shook himself out of it, Dorian and Cassandra were arguing over the Circles in Tevinter versus those in Thedas, but Iron Bull was studying him, that single blue-gray eye trained on his face.  He could feel the beginning of sweat on his brow and wondered if that was what had caught Bull's attention. 

            "You okay, Cullen," he asked quietly, shifting to sit closer. 

            Cullen looked at him, weighing what to say.  "I'm fine," he said after a moment. 

            Bull's eye shifted to the other two arguing and back to Cullen.  "You aren't," he said.  He gestured to Cullen's hands, which were knotted in each other.  "You're anxious.  You work out too much, trying to distract yourself from whatever’s in your head.  How long since you stopped taking lyrium?"  He shifted as he said this last, his body subtly blocking the camera from seeing his face and his voice dropping.  He must have seen the question on Cullen's face and kept going before he could say anything.  "I recognize the symptoms.  You don't have to explain." 

            Cullen's gaze fell to his hands, and he twisted them as he pondered what to say.  "Long enough," he said simply, keeping his own voice low.  The microphones wouldn't be able to hear them if Dorian and Cassandra kept arguing like they were.  "How did you know?" 

            Bull shrugged, an almost imperceptible shift of his shoulders.  "I wasn't always a body guard.  I was Ben-Hassrath once -- I know all the tricks." 

            Cullen felt his shoulders tense at the words.  Kirkwall had survived a qunari invasion a few years after he'd arrived, while he was still part of the Templars; it wasn't a time he wanted to relive. 

            "Relax, Cullen," Bull said, chuckling as if he could see the pieces connecting in Cullen's mind.  "I'm Tal-Vashoth now.  I betrayed the qun.  They don't want me back." 

            "What happened?"  The words were out before Cullen could stop them, but Bull didn’t flinch, only continued, his voice still low. 

            "I picked my men over a shipment," he replied.  Quickly he told the story of a qunari dreadnought that had gone down in the Waking Sea around the time of the qunari invasion in Kirkwall.  His men had been ambushed, and the qun's man had tried to get Bull to sacrifice his men to save the supplies.  Bull had refused. 

            "They didn't like that," he finished.  "I was expected to choose the mission over my men, and I couldn't." 

            Cullen studied the floor, memories washing over him as he listened.  "I could," he whispered, his eyes clenched closed.  He could feel surprise radiating off the bigger man, but he couldn't look at him. 

            When he spoke, Bull's voice was lower than ever.  "Want to talk about it?" 

            Cullen's head jerked up at that.  No one since Cassandra, and his therapist years before that, had asked if he wanted to talk about it -- no one had cared enough, and he'd never created any relationships that would have been conducive to that kind of revelation. 

            "No," he said, his voice cold.  "It's not something I want to relive, not ever.  Ask Cassandra, she knows." 

            Bull's voice, when it came, was firm.  "A man's secrets are his own.  You tell me if you want me to know, but I'm not getting your story from someone else." 

            Cullen continued to stare at him.  Bull was the first person to offer a shoulder in years.  After seeing how damaged he was, most everyone disengaged from him at the first opportunity, and thus the words out of his own mouth surprised him.  "Some other time, then." 

            "It's a date," said Bull, his previous volume returning. 

            "Who's got a date now?"  interrupted Dorian, turning to them so fast, Cullen was sure he was going to hurt himself.  "Is our handsome blonde housemate going to ask his lady love out for this weekend?" 

            Cullen blushed up to his ears and buried his face in his hands.  He'd entirely forgotten about these absurd 'date nights' built into Skyhold's schedule.  Once a month, each member of the house got to invite someone on a visit to Val Royeaux, be it someone from their lives outside the show or someone from the house itself.  It was a publicity stunt meant to give the participants an outlet to see their families or significant others, but Cullen had no doubts that someone had conjured it just to up the ante in the house too. 

            "I don't know what you're talking about," he muttered, sliding down in his seat, and Iron Bull and Dorian roared with laughter.  Even Cassandra looked amused. 

            "You should ask her, Cullen," she said, offering him a supportive smile. 

            Cullen crossed his arms.  "I assumed we were going together, Cass," he said, and her smile faltered. 

            "I um… Oh, well, sure, I guess." 

            "Someone else asked you, didn't they?"  He tried to keep the shock out of his voice, knowing that would insult the Seeker.  She was careful about who she accepted since her previous boyfriend was killed in an accident.  Also, as Cullen could attest, she intimidated basically everyone who approached her. 

            "No, it's just…"  Cassandra trailed off and sighed.  "Of course we can go.  But don't you want to, you know…"  She jerked her head at the bedrooms as if to indicate her roommate. Cullen blushed again, and Dorian whistled.  Cassandra turned her attention to the mage, her features settling into a fierce glare.  "Don't tease him, Tevinter, he'll never do anything then." 

            "He totally should though!" Iron Bull piped up. 

            "Yes!"  Dorian added, but Cassandra just gave them both dirty looks. 

            "There is nothing for me to do!" Cullen insisted, but at that moment Talia walked into the room, and he swallowed his words with an audible gulp, face flaming. 

            Cassandra's eyes got very wide, but Dorian looked positively gleeful. 

            "Here's the lady in question," Iron Bull rumbled.

            Talia looked confused.  "Huh?"  Her yoga mat was tucked under one arm, that same hot pink sports bra showing through her tank top.  Cullen dutifully averted his gaze. 

            "Talia darling, Cullen here has a crush on you," Dorian announced, gesturing toward the blonde man.  Cullen sputtered indignantly, trying to deny it while Iron Bull tried unsuccessfully to suppress his laughter.  Even Cassandra was laughing, her hand over her mouth to hide it. 

            A smile spread across Talia's face.  "Really?" she asked, trying to feign surprise.  A slight squeak in her voice belied how nonchalant she actually was as she put a hand on her hip.  "Then he might actually have to talk to me."  She glanced at Cullen as she spoke, and they both blushed when their eyes met. 

            "I, um," he said helpfully, and Dorian chuckled. 

            "I, however, cannot abide being tossed aside for our housemate," he said, standing to offer Talia his hand.  "May I have the honor of a very flirtatious but ultimately platonic date this weekend?"

            Talia giggled, glancing at Cullen as she did.  He found himself desperately wishing she'd say no, that she'd march right over to him and demand that he take her out instead, cameras be damned, but instead she took Dorian's hand.  "Seeing as I have no other pressing offers…" she smiled at him, looking abashed.  "I would love to." 

            The mage leaned in and kissed her cheek.  "It's a date," he said.  "Wear something smashing." 

            Talia laughed outright then.  "As if I could do anything but," she teased before heading for the patio door.  "Yoga calls.  Catch you all later?" 

            "Of course," Cassandra said, and Dorian blew her an embarrassingly wet kiss.  Cullen grunted a goodbye, barely able to look up. 

            "Talia, wait," Iron Bull called.  "What do you do about masturbating while on camera?" 

            "Showerhead, Bull," she shouted back, already out the door, and he and Dorian collapsed with laughter. 

            Cullen’s face was flaming. _Maker's breath_. 

\---

            Talia headed down to her usual yoga spot, trying to ignore how her pulse was racing with Dorian's words.  _Stop it_ , she told herself.  _The only thing that makes this cute instead of awkward is that you maybe sorta have a crush on him too._

            She tried to push that thought down.  Even though Cullen’s sputtering reaction said that Dorian was probably telling the truth, she didn’t want to get her hopes up.  Still, they were almost three weeks into The Real World: Skyhold now – she no longer had the excuse of ‘we’ve only just met’ to keep her feelings at bay.

            And yet she’d agreed to go with Dorian on date night this weekend.  Talia tried to reason that there was no way for her to say no, and besides she always had fun with Dorian – she hadn’t expected to find a friend on the first day in the house, but it had certainly turned out well.  Even so, the whole time he’d been peacocking before her, she couldn’t help but hope that Cullen would get up and push him out of the way, insisting that she go on a date with him instead. 

            She tried to shrug it off as she came to the same place she always did yoga.  The backyard of Skyhold offered beautiful views of the rolling Orlesian countryside, and this far from the house, the cameras could still see her even though she was invisible from the pool and patio.  It offered her a bit of solitude, the most obviously missing element of her reality-show life, and she loved it. 

            Unrolling her yoga mat, she sighed.  There were plenty of weeks left in this experiment – still plenty of time to sort things out.  Besides, yoga cleared her head.

            If only the mat would actually unroll.  She gave it another toss, but its squishy material made a sad, sticky noise and refused to budge. 

            Talia sighed again.  Weeks left to figure things out with Cullen also meant weeks left of living with everyone else in the house, and ever since she rescued his stuff from the pool, Talia had turned victim to Sera's prankster ways.  First she’d recreated those Maker-damned salt cookies, leaving them on the counter with a note just for her.  Granted, Iron Bull had gotten to them first, and Vivienne looked positively delighted to find something trendy from back home, but Talia knew they were aimed at her.  Then Sera had recruited Varric, and together they’d mixed ground pepper into all the coffee in the house, a prank no one noticed until Talia had taken the first unsuspecting sip one morning.  She’d nearly died, choking like she had, or at least it felt like it. 

            Now, as she peeled back the edge of her yoga mat, Talia grumbled that this was so not what she meant when she’d asked Sera to leave Cullen alone.  Apparently the mischievous elf had taken that to mean she was stepping into his place, if the thick layer of honey rolled into her mat were any indication. 

            She picked it back up and headed for the house.  “What a mess,” she muttered as she walked, wondering how she was going to clean it up.  The mat was too big to wash in a sink, so she’d probably have to take it into the communal bathrooms, thus revealing the prank to everyone watching.  Sera must be loving this. 

            Talia was so engrossed in trying to figure out what to do that she almost walked into Cullen, who dodged but caught her shoulder in time to keep her from stumbling into the pool. 

            “Maker, Cullen, sorry!” She burst out, balancing herself against him. 

            He smiled a little, the corner of his mouth ticking up.  “No apology necessary,” he said.  “Are you all right?  Normally you’re well into your workout by this point.” 

            Talia studied him for a moment, wondering how he knew that. He seemed to realize and blushed, one hand rubbing at the back of his neck.  “I mean… I assume?” he added lamely.  Talia couldn’t help but laugh at the sheepish expression on his face.

            “I’ll forgive your creepster comment if you help me,” she said, the request slipping out before she could think it through.  She and Cullen.  Alone.  In the bathroom.  No cameras.

            He hurriedly agreed before her mind could get anywhere too inappropriate. 

            “I need to wash my yoga mat,” she said, and even though he looked confused, Cullen followed her into the house. 

            Dorian and Iron Bull leapt apart when they entered, Dorian looking embarrassed but Iron Bull keeping one enormous hand on his knee.    

            “That was fast,” Bull said, surprised. 

            “Cullen, when I sent you outside, I didn’t mean for you to wuss out immediately,” Dorian said, and Cullen blushed. 

            “I…”  He began, but Talia interrupted. 

            “He’s helping me,” she said.  “Sera honeyed my yoga mat, and I have to wash it off in the showers.”  Cullen’s eyes went wide at this, but she didn’t see.  Dorian smirked. 

            “Talia, darling, that means Sera likes you.” 

            “Hey, I’ll honey your yoga mat too if that’s what it takes,” Bull said, throwing her a saucy wink. 

            Talia groaned.  “Thanks, but no thanks, Bull.  One unwelcome suitor is enough, thank you.”  She shouldered the mat and started out of the living room, pausing only when Dorian cleared his throat and caught her eye.  “What?”  She asked, still oblivious.  Dorian gave her a look and jerked his head at the patio doorway. 

            Cullen stood frozen in place, a surprisingly hurt look on his face as he stared after her.  _Shit._

            She must have said it out loud, for he glanced up and shook his head, the look vanishing behind a carefully constructed blank mask.  “That’s not what I meant,” she added, feeling her cheeks warming.  “I didn’t mean… Cullen, I…” She could practically hear Dorian cringing. 

            His amber eyes studied her from across the room, the intensity of their gaze making everything else fall away.  Talia tried to meet them, but within moments her nerve faltered, and she looked away, studying her bare feet. 

            After a moment, Iron Bull intervened.  “I think the lady still needs help, Cullen,” he said softly, breaking the spell.  “If you’re willing, that is.”  Cullen’s gaze snapped to Iron Bull before dropping. 

            “Yes, of course,” he said quickly, his face coloring.  He stepped past Talia, leading the way down the hall to the bathrooms.  She glanced after him before turning to Dorian and Bull. 

            “Fuuuuuck,” she groaned, trying to keep her voice down.  “What do I do?” 

            “Go after him, of course,” Dorian hissed, waving her down the hall after Cullen. 

            “Flirt incessantly,” Bull suggested.  “Maybe he’ll get the point.” 

            “Right,” she said, straightening her shoulders.  She started down the hall, glancing back to see Dorian still waving her on. Bull gave her a thumbs up. 

            _Right.  Flirty.  I can do that_. 

            Cullen was waiting for her at the bathroom door.  “I’m not clear on why you need my help,” he said, avoiding her eyes.  Talia couldn’t help but hear the slight stress on ‘my,’ and she cringed. 

            “Cullen, about what I said before…” 

            He waved a hand.  “You don’t have to explain,” he said, turning away to open the door.  

            “I do, though,” she said, grabbing his arm.  He paused, glancing back at her.  The door fell closed.  “I was joking, I meant Sera, and perhaps Iron Bull, as unwelcome, not…”  She trailed off as his eyes met hers, a tiny hopeful smile creeping across her face.

            Cullen hesitated.  “Then you weren’t…” 

            “No,” she breathed.  “Never.”  Something drained out of his features, the lines relaxing as the corner of his mouth twitched up.  Her hand slid up his arm as he stepped closer, their quest for the bathroom forgotten, and he reached for her. 

            “I thought…” 

            “I know.  I’m sorry.”  Her pulse was flying, his hand warm against her side.  The yoga mat had fallen to the floor at some point, unnoticed. 

            “Does that mean…” He began, his breath ghosting across her skin. 

            “Yes,” she said softly.  He was so close, long lashes meeting as those amber eyes slid closed, and if she just leaned in…

            The door behind them burst open.  They leapt apart, Cullen’s hand sliding reluctantly from her side and leaving her cold.  

            Sera surveyed them, looking between their guilty faces, both red up to their ears.  “I interrupted, dinnit I?” They didn’t answer; Cullen averted his eyes, his hand on the back of his neck.  “Fuck!” She shouted before sprinting off down the hallway toward the living room.  “Dorian!”  There was a momentary silence before she yelled, “Ew, interrupted you too!” 

            “Sera!” Talia heard Dorian shout.  “You weren’t supposed to be back for another ten minutes.  They need time, dammit!” 

            “Thought they was done,” said the elf, her voice echoing.  “Turns out they weren’t.” 

            “They’ll never get together if they don’t have the opportunity!” 

            Talia and Cullen listened to this exchange from down the hall, avoiding each other’s eyes as they did.  Cullen rubbed the back of his neck.  It was abundantly clear that this had been an elaborate set-up. 

            “Come on,” Cullen said eventually, his voice low.  “Let’s get that mat cleaned up.” 

            Talia nodded.  She bent and picked it up, careful to avoid the sticky edge, but when Dorian’s claim of “They need all the help they can get!” echoed toward her, she turned. 

            “We can hear you, assholes!” She shouted.  Their voices stopped for a moment before Iron Bull called, “Wasn’t me, but sorry anyway!” 

            She shook her head and headed for the door.  The moment was gone, and Maker knew, a bathroom wouldn’t help her get it back. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The timing here is between the qunari invasion and the Chantry explosion during DA2, just FYI. 
> 
> Thanks for reading with me thus far!! I'm having a lot of fun writing :)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for the delay in posting! I was moving, but I'm done now -- should be back to weekly updates
> 
> As always, thanks for reading!

_Week Three: Phone Calls_

            The phone rang exactly three times before Josephine answered it.  "Real World: Skyhold public relations," she chirped, holding up a finger to Leliana, who was sitting opposite her.  "Josephine Montilyet speaking." 

            "Always so proper, Josie," Leliana muttered, her sharp eyes skimming over the papers in front of her.  The first weeks of filming had been a rousing success -- they had more footage than they knew what to do with, and the surprising number of injuries and budding conflicts just meant they could appeal to a wider audience than ever.  She and Josephine were working now to build a more action-oriented commercial for late-night advertising in advance of their network premier next week. 

            Flipping the page, her eyes settled on the report over the developing romances in the house.  Sure, she had hoped that such things might happen, but she had never thought it would be so soon! Yet the qunari and the Tevinter mage were all over each other any time they were alone, and Varric and the Seeker, of all people, had been flirting incessantly over books and late-night glasses of wine.  And then of course there was Talia and the Templar.  Leliana knew both of them actually, Cullen from years before when she'd travelled with the King of Ferelden, and Talia from her work in the Val Royeaux tabloids.  Leliana smiled.  She was often an inside source for Talia, though the reporter didn't know she was behind the scenes running the show. 

            There was such opportunity here for mischief, and Leliana loved it. 

            Before her, Josephine's voice had dropped until she was whispering into the handset, one hand cupped over the end.  "You still shouldn't be calling here," she was saying, and Leliana tuned back in immediately. 

            "Your mystery love?" 

            Josephine glanced over and blushed prettily.  "Hush, you," she said, waving a hand dismissively.  "It's private."  She went back to the phone. 

            Leliana directed her eyes back to the papers, but kept listening.  "Not so private when that's Gordon Blackwall on the phone," she sing-songed, her accent trilling over the words.  She'd known for months, of course, that one of the show's participants was Josephine's boyfriend -- she just hadn't realized which one it was until the show began.  Blackwall was rugged and attractive for an older fellow, but Leliana would have pegged Josie for the handsome blonde. 

            "I have to go!" Josephine squeaked into the phone, and Leliana smiled to herself.  She could hear the rumble of Blackwall's voice through the phone, just muffled enough that she couldn't make out the words.  "Yes, I know," Josephine said, her voice dropping.  She swiveled away, trying to block her words.  "I'll do what I can.  Uh-huh.  Yes.  Love you too."  She whispered this last and practically flung the phone back into its cradle. 

            "Honestly, Leliana, do you have to know everything?"  She demanded, her arms crossed. 

            Leliana kept smiling.  "Josie, you know the answer to that." 

            The show's host sighed.  "I do.  I just…"  She uncrossed her arms and picked up her pen again, flipping aimlessly through the reports in front of her. 

            "I know," the producer said gently, touching Josephine's forearm.  "I worry, that's all.  I don't mind that you are involved with someone on the show, and I can't throw stones, seeing as I know some of them myself.  I just don't want you to get in trouble." 

            Josephine relaxed a little at that.  "We won't," she said simply. 

            Leliana nodded.  "Good.  Then let's finish this, shall we? I think there's a lot of potential for expanding the audience base into Ferelden with Cullen's appeal, don't you?" 

            Josephine nodded before giving a contented sigh.  "And that tension between him and the reporter, Talia?  Even I want to know what happens next." 

\---

            Will answered on the seventh ring, just before Talia gave up.  "Yallo?"  He asked, his voice muffled.  

            "Hey, Will, it's me," she said, smiling into the phone.  She hadn't realized until that exact moment just how much she'd missed her brother. 

            "Hey, Tali-Wali, my little sister! Long time, no talk, huh?" 

            "Will, you are two minutes older than me," Talia said, groaning at her childhood nickname.  "When are you going to knock that off?" 

            "When it stops being funny," her brother said, his standard immature answer, and Talia laughed.  It was nice to hear his voice again.  They chatted for a few minutes about Will's job and what had been going on out in the real world before Will brought up the show. 

            "So, I caught the first episode," he said. 

            Talia's eyebrows rose.  She was pretty sure it wasn't supposed to air until next week; the production time was behind the actual events.  "Really?"  She asked. 

            "Sure," Will said, his voice taking on a hollow sound like she was on speakerphone. 

            "Will." 

            "Yes, Wali?"  Definitely on speakerphone.  And doing something with his mouth. 

            "Are you flossing your teeth while we talk?" 

            "Of course," he said, his voice back to normal as he picked up the phone.  "Got a big date tonight." 

            Talia rolled her eyes and started to bundle her hair up into a ponytail.  "A bring-home-to-mom date or a girl from work?"  Her brother was a bartender at a sleazy strip club in downtown Denerim, The Pearl or some such nonsense. 

            "What do you think?"  She could practically hear him wiggling his eyebrows at her. 

            "You're disgusting," she told him, digging in her pocket for a hair tie with the phone balanced between her cheek and shoulder. 

            "No worse than you and your blonde friend," he retorted. 

            Talia froze.  "What?" 

            "I watched the show, I told you." 

            "Will, the show isn't on until next week." 

            "Fine, I saw the commercial.  You and your little friend are front and center, hugging and making eyes at each other."  He made several wet kissing noises before resuming.  "There's even one where you tackle him in what looks like a mud wrestling contest.   What the hell kind of show are you on, anyway, Wali?" 

            "You should know, you signed me up," she grumped.  Her arms crossed defensively over her chest, but Will only laughed. 

            "Don't be like that, Tali-Wali," he said.  "Finish doing your hair." 

            "I hate you," she muttered, but restarted her ponytail.  "So, um, what's he look like in the commercials? Does he seem… I don't know…" 

            "Interested?"  Will asked, his voice going hollow again.  She rolled her eyes but didn't say anything.  "Yeah, he's making just as many goo-goo eyes back at you.  But there's cameras, right, so don't do anything I wouldn't do." 

            "I reiterate, you're disgusting." 

            "And as such, I gotta go do my thing."  She heard what sounded like him swishing his mouth out with water before he picked up the phone again.  "You wanna talk to Doc before I go?" 

            Talia debated for a moment before remembering that these conversations weren't recorded.  She was free to make as many kissy noises at her mabari as she wanted.  "Sure." 

            "Hang on.  Yo, Doc!"  Will shouted, the phone on speaker once again, and then Talia heard her dog's trademark snuffling in her ear. 

            "Hiya Doc," she said, and she was surprised to find herself choking back tears.  "How are you, boy?"  The dog gave a little bark and a whine.  "I know, I miss you too.  Has Will been taking good care of you?"  Doc barked excitedly several times, and Talia knew her brother must have been spoiling that dog rotten.  "Well, not too many treats, okay?"  He whined.  "Okay, okay, you win.  I gotta go though, I'll be home in a few weeks."  She gave the receiver some kisses and heard the dog's wet slurp in reply as he licked Will's phone.  "Bye, Doc." 

            "That was humiliating to watch," Will announced as he picked up the phone.  "Let alone participate in.  And you owe me a new phone now." He made a disgusted noise.  

            "You're just jealous you aren't going to get kisses tonight," Talia retorted. 

            "Not that kind, no.  Listen, Tali, you okay on that show?" 

            Talia smiled.  "I'm fine, Will.  Try to watch the episode if you can, okay?" 

            "Sure, little sister." 

            "Two minutes older, Will, that's all!" 

            "Love you too."  He hung up, leaving Talia laughing. 

\---

            Cassandra's phone call to her fellow commander, Rylen, was as quick and perfunctory as Dorian's phone call to his friend Maeveris back home was long and gossip-filled.  Throughout both, Cullen sat just outside the soundproof room, wondering what in Thedas he was going to say to his sister. 

            He'd last spoken to her almost three months before, just after he'd received notice that he had been chosen to be part of the show.  That phone call had gone less than perfectly -- a lot of Mia shouting about how he never called and a lot of Cullen grumbling that he was busy and she needed to chill. 

            His big sister hadn't taken kindly to that, of course. 

            He didn't have the time to consider calling someone else though, nor did he have anyone else to call.  Cassandra was here, and Raleigh had made so much fun of him for agreeing to be on a TV show that Cullen was sure he would just laugh and hang up. 

            Mia it was. 

            The door to the room burst open, revealing Dorian in all his ridiculous glory. 

            "Your turn," he announced, twirling one end of his mustache with his fingertips, the skull ring on his hand catching the light.  "And you better not be calling another woman, or else…"  He snapped his fingers, and a tiny spark flitted up into the air. 

            Cullen rolled his eyes.  "Not that it's any of your business, but I'm calling my sister," he said.  Dorian nodded sagely. 

            "A good choice, ser," he said before sweeping off, likely to resume his and Talia's poolside lounging for the afternoon.  Date night was tomorrow, and none of the days between he and Talia's interrupted moment and their non-date had been pleasant when it came to Dorian's harassing him. 

            Cullen sighed, his chin dropping to his chest for a moment.  Thank the Maker the show hadn't aired yet, or he'd be getting the same treatment from Mia. 

            The phone rang for a long time before a man's voice answered. 

            "Hello?" 

            For the life of him, Cullen couldn't remember Mia's husband's name.  "Um… Hi, I'm calling for Mia.  Is she available?"  He could hear his voice wavering, heat rising in his face. 

            "She is," the man said.  "Who's this?" 

            "It's, uh, Cullen," Cullen said.  "Her brother." 

            "Ah.  The delinquent," the man rumbled, and suddenly the image of a bearded face and a warm smile popped into Cullen's head. 

            "How are you, Owen?" 

            He laughed.  "Better than you're going to be with Mia gets a hold of you," he said, and for a second Cullen was reminded of just how big his brother-in-law was.   Muffled voices spoke for a moment, and the phone switched hands. 

            "Cullen?"  His sister sounded just like she always did, that same commanding tone mixed with the deep disbelief that it was actually her brother calling. 

            He cringed.  "Hi, Mia." 

            "Cully!" She squealed, and Cullen recoiled from the handset in alarm.  "You called! Are you dying?" 

            "Huh?" 

            "You never call unless something insane is happening.  Last time it was that you were going to be on TV, and the time before it was that you moved to Kirkwall.  All that's left is that you're dying."  She made this sound like it was a perfectly logical conclusion, and Cullen rubbed the back of his neck. 

            "I, um," he began, but didn't get anywhere. 

            "Otherwise it's just a text.  'I'm still alive,' or 'Stop prying,' or whatever else you think is appropriate communication for your big sister who has only ever worried about you." 

            "Well, I am still alive," he said, and Mia laughed.  It had only a little bit of a hysterical edge to it, an improvement over the last time he called. 

            "Thank the Maker for that," she said sarcastically.  "I don't want to have to deal with whatever mess of an estate you'd leave behind.  It's probably written on a post-it, isn't it?" 

            "What?"  How had they gotten to this topic?

            "Your will.  Do you even have one?" 

            "Of course I do!" 

            Mia hmphed, and Cullen just knew she was crossing her arms.  "Where it is?" 

            Cullen hesitated.  "It's… somewhere safe."  On a pad of paper in the bottom of his desk at the precinct, but she didn't need to know that.  "Anyway, why is that important?" 

            "Because I am going to kill you," Mia said matter-of-factly, and Cullen cringed.

            "I was wondering when we'd get to the death threats." 

            "It's been three months since you called, and over two years since we've seen you.  Lillian wasn't even pregnant yet last time you were home." 

            "Lillian?" 

            There was a deadly pause.  "Branson's wife," Mia said, her voice cold.  "Mother of your nephew." 

            "Right.  Yes, Lillian." 

            "You do remember your nephew's name?  Even though you've never bothered to come meet him?" 

            Cullen racked his brain.  "…Oliver?" 

            "That's Rosalie's boyfriend, but good to know you remember the non-blood relatives." 

            He sighed.  "I'm a shite brother, I know, Mia," he said. 

            "I'm glad you remember my name," she sniffed.  From beyond the phone, a muffled rumble of a laugh came through -- Owen. 

            "I remembered Owen's too," he added quickly, and she snorted. 

            "I heard the call.  You sounded completely surprised to find a man answering the phone in my house." 

            Cullen pinched the bridge of his nose.  "Can we please get past the guilt trip?  I would love to actually talk to my sister." 

            "For the first time in ten years!" She shouted, and suddenly her voice was very far away. 

            "Cullen?"  Owen had grabbed the phone.  "You all right?" 

            Cullen felt very small.  "Fine, thanks," he muttered, and Owen chuckled. 

            "We've seen the commercials for the show.  Mia won't say it, but you look good.  Healthy."  Behind him, Cullen could hear Mia shouting about how he needed to sleep more and also maybe kiss that pretty girl he kept flirting with, although Maker knew what she saw in Cullen.  Owen laughed again.  "You catch all that?" 

            "Yeah. Thanks, Owen." 

            "Listen, Cullen…"  the man trailed off, and Cullen cringed.  Owen was a good man -- he kept Mia grounded, and Cullen quite liked him.  The only problem was that he was just as protective of his wife as Mia was of everyone else.  Piss off Mia, and you've pissed off Owen, too.  Unfortunately, Cullen excelled at that.  "Mia needs her brother right about now.  She's, uh…" 

            Cullen's insides twisted. 

            "We're pregnant."  The words echoed through the phone.  When Cullen didn't respond, Owen kept going.  "You and Mia haven't talked much, so you didn't know we'd been trying.  It's been… hard.  A long time coming.  Tests, IVF."  He paused for a moment, and Cullen could him consult with Mia.  "She's five months next week, and the doctors say she's well past the danger of losing them." 

            This was the first word that seemed to sink all the way in.  "Them?"  His voice was shaking. 

            "Yeah.  Twins," Owen said, and Cullen let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. 

            "Uh, congrats," he said.  A weight settled in his stomach, all the things he didn't know about his family and all the moments he'd missed in the years since he'd seen them.  "I'm sorry I didn't know." 

            Owen grunted.  "You couldn't have, without calling," he said, his voice tinted with laughter.  Behind him, Cullen heard Mia start shouting again, and Owen laughed out loud.  "Maker, it's fun to needle her." 

            Cullen laughed. 

            "You should come visit, when the show's done," Owen said then, and Cullen found his answer was sincere. 

            "I will.  It's been too long." 

            Mia wrenched the phone away from her husband.  "Will I ever hear from you again, Cully?" 

            Cullen chuckled.  "Congratulations, Mia," he said.  "And of course.  I wouldn't want to miss your baby." 

            "Babies," she corrected automatically, and Cullen smiled to himself.  The image of his big sister with two little ones was more fitting than he'd ever realized. 

            "You'll make a great mom, Mia.  You've already got the guilt trip down." 

            He could hear her rolling her eyes.  "Thanks," she said sarcastically before her voice changed.  "You'll come visit, right?  I'd like them to know their uncle Cully." 

            "You have my word." 

            "I love you, Cullen," she said, more gently than before.  "I miss my brother."  

            Cullen swallowed down the lump that rose in his throat.  "I miss you too, Mia," he said.  "Call you again in a few weeks?" 

            "Okay."  He could hear her sniffling, and then Owen took the phone again.  "Thanks, Cullen," he said, his deep voice calm. 

            "She okay?" 

            "Hormones.  She'll be shouting again in a minute, don't worry," Owen chuckled before yelping.  "Ow! Babe, that hurt!" 

            "She smack you?" 

            "Yep." 

            "Better you than me," Cullen laughed in spite of himself.  "I really will call, Owen. Tell Mia I said bye." 

            "Will do, brother," he said before hanging up. 

\---

            Talia sprinted down the driveway toward the gates of Skyhold, her boots crunching in the gravel.  She was late. 

            Everyone else, including the house's tech, Harding, and one of the producers, was already waiting to get Skyhold's first date night started.  Blackwall stood nearest the shuttle set to take them into Val Royeaux, fiddling with the navy blue tie on his crisp grey suit.  Next to him, Sera bounced on the balls of her feet, a voluminous yellow skirt billowing around her slender legs.  Vivienne was adjusting the straps of a sparkling floor-length gown, its black sequined hem just kissing the ground, while Iron Bull stood next to her wearing an actual shirt.  Cullen was wearing the same thing he'd worn on the first day, only he'd swapped the white button down for a maroon one with its sleeves rolled up.  Beside him stood Cassandra, her dark hair spiked and a black tunic dangling over skinny jeans. 

            Next to all of them, Talia felt out of place, her leather combat boots all too obvious under the slim red dress she was wearing.  Its collar was cut low, plunging to reveal the lacy design of a black bra, and when the others glanced over at her arrival, she self-consciously crossed her arms over her chest. 

            She'd been going for edgy, her black makeup winging away from her eyes, but the looks she was getting made her feel far from it.  Bull gave her a once over and a wink that didn't help.  

            Dorian found her just as she'd decided to go change, and gave her an enormous hug, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek.  "Hello, dear," he said, raising a hand and gesturing for her to spin around.  The lace of her bra criss-crossed her back, decorating the skin left exposed with delicate patterns, and he whistled.  "You look amazing.  I feel downright _average_ in comparison."  He winked, and suddenly Talia felt a lot better. 

            "Thanks, Dorian," she said, linking her arm through his. 

            He patted her hand, the skull grinning up at her.  "Always, lovely." 

            They listened together as Harding and the lawyer, Solas, went through a lengthy list of rules and requirements for their time in Val Royeaux.  Everyone had to be back on the shuttle by midnight.  No unapproved visitors.  All approved visitors had to sign waivers before they could head out into the city. No visits to anywhere the cameras couldn't follow, such as hotel rooms.  Alcohol was permitted in reasonable amounts.  ("Really, what is reasonable except your personal definition," Dorian muttered, and Talia giggled.) 

            But listening to Harding meant she missed how Cullen's eyes lingered on her, his attentions anything but lewd.  His gaze traced the lace across her back, the delicate curl in her hair, the unexplained scars that marred one arm.  He watched the silver earrings she wore catch the setting sun as she laughed, the sweater in one hand, the splash of mud across the back of one boot hinting at some adventure not yet forgotten. 

            His brow furrowed at the sight of her hand clutched in Dorian's grasp.  He had no claim to her, could ask nothing of her, and yet _Maker_ , how he wanted her to be giggling at _his_ whispered comments, leaning into _his_ shoulder as they listened to instructions, sitting by _his_ side on the shuttle ride into the city. 

            Cassandra sensed his brooding.  "Should have asked her instead," she pointed out quietly, not looking away from the Orlesian countryside as they sped toward Val Royeaux. 

            "I don't need a reminder, Cass," he grumbled, crossing his arms and slouching down in his seat. 

            When the shuttle reached the main square, it stopped to let everyone off.  Blackwall immediately vanished to whereabouts unknown, muttering about meeting his lady for dinner at a steakhouse.  A cameraman dutifully followed him, looking bored.  Vivienne announced that she was meeting her lover (Dorian cringed) for a nobility function, and, plucking up the train of her gown, she marched off.  Another cameraman followed her. 

            Iron Bull vanished into a nearby tavern to meet Krem, his old mercenary buddy, and Sera bounced off toward Red Jenny's bakery, her red-headed girlfriend meeting her at the door.  Cassandra and Cullen promptly left for a shooting range.  Cameramen followed all of them, some looking relieved that at least two of the participants were staying together. 

            This left Talia, Dorian, and Varric standing in the square alone.  Two cameramen were lingering behind as well. 

            "Don't you have anyone coming to visit, Varric?"  Talia asked, not wanting to leave the dwarf alone.  He looked perfectly comfortable, what with his hair tied back and his shirt unbuttoned to his navel like always, but she felt bad. 

            "Of course," he said, giving them a conspiratorial look.  "But I have to go meet them.  Can't come to us."  He lowered his voice, and the other two leaned in.  "You guys want to come along?  There's booze." 

            "Count me in," Dorian agreed, and Talia nodded. 

            "Then follow me."  He waved at one of the cameramen, who switched his equipment on and took off after them through the streets of Val Royeaux. 

            They navigated a series of side streets, shouts and off-key singing reaching their ears long before a devilish grin split Varric's face.  "We're here," he said, gesturing to a small painted sign that read "The Lion's Head."  An enormous painted lion's face roared above the doorway, the chipped paint particularly seedy.  Varric pushed the door open.  A wave of smells, like the ocean mixed with stale beer, rolled out to greet them, and Dorian nearly gagged. 

            "Maker, Varric, is this really necessary?" 

            "When you see who I invited, you'll understand," the dwarf smirked. 

            It certainly didn't take Talia long to figure it out.  This was no elite Orlesian bar; this was an old-fashioned pub, complete with a giant oak bar and enough alcohol selection to drown the entirety of the Empress's armies.  All around, people were throwing darts or shouting at each other, ale sloshing as they enjoyed themselves.  A grungy piano decorated one corner, played by the obligatory older gentleman who'd seen too much, but that didn't seem to bother anyone; in fact, that piano was rapidly becoming the center of attention as a woman climbed on top of it. 

            She belted out the first verse of an absolutely filthy drinking song, her long blonde hair falling across her back as she sang.  The cropped emerald shirt she wore showed off her narrow waist and toned abs, a pair of skinny jeans and the highest pair of heels Talia had ever seen completing the look.  She was holding a half-filled mug in one hand, its contents sloshing as she gestured for the other patrons to join her in the chorus. 

            Hawke. 

            It took only seconds from their arrival for her to spot Varric and the others, and even less time for her to leap from the piano to the ground, running for her best friend.  She picked Varric up, spinning the dwarf round, and where Talia expected Varric to throw a fit, he only laughed and hugged her tighter. 

            "Ah, the Champion of Kirkwall," he said when she'd put him down.  He introduced Talia and Dorian quickly, and Hawke gave them a quick once-over. 

            "Marian Hawke, at your service," she said, giving them a quick bow and a quirked smile.  "I hear you all are part of this reality TV show I've heard so much about.  It must be the most attractively cast show in the history of Thedas, if you're any indication."  She winked at Dorian, who promptly melted into her hands. 

            "If that's the case, you would have been cast as well, darling," he replied, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand. 

            Talia glanced at Varric.  "Hawke has that effect on people," he said by way of explanation, and shrugged. 

            "Nonsense, Varric," Hawke laughed.  "And you," she turned to Talia, elbowing Varric as she did.  "I hear you're after the handsome Knight Captain of the Gallows."  She gave Talia a look she could not decipher.  "He's a tough mabari, I'll give him that.  A despicable person, perhaps…"  She trailed off, shrugging, and Varric elbowed her. 

            "Curly's chilled, and you know it," he said.  "Don't go giving her ideas."  Hawke shrugged, taking a deep drink from her mug. 

            "Whatever you say," she said noncommittally.  "The world's different when you're a mage surrounded by templars." 

            "An apostate, don't forget, Hawke," Varric reminded her. 

            She turned back to the patrons still gathered around the piano.  "And a very popular one," she shouted, her arms lifting in celebration.  The people gathered cheered, the Champion well-known even in Val Royeaux.  The music promptly picked up and she moved away from the Skyhold trio.  Nearest the piano, a dark-skinned elf covered in white tattoos offered a hand up, and she pressed a kiss to his lips. 

            "That's Fenris," Varric said, gesturing to the elf.  "Her boyfriend." 

            "Isn't he the one that helped her take down the Arishok?"  Talia asked.  She'd read Varric's _Tale of the Champion_ , and still nothing had prepared her for Marian Hawke. 

            "Depends," Varric said, his eyes lingering on his old friends.  "Which edition did you read?"  Talia rolled her eyes. 

            "Drinks all around," Dorian announced, turning from what was rapidly becoming a spectacle before them.  He headed for the bar, but Talia and Varric stayed behind, watching as a scantily clad woman joined Hawke on top of the piano. 

            "Isabela," Varric explained before Talia could ask. 

            That hadn't been what was on her mind anyway.  "Varric, what did Hawke mean when she said Cullen was a despicable person?"

            Varric waved a hand dismissively.  "Hawke doesn't know what she's talking about," he said, but that wasn't enough.  It didn't take much before he relented.  "Hawke knew Curly a long time ago," he explained.  "Before he left the Templars.  Back then…" 

            Talia watched his eyes flicker over to Hawke once more.  "Curly has seen some shit," he finally said.  "Before he left the Templars, he was a staunch supporter of Meredith Stannard." 

            That made her hesitate.  Stannard was the current Viscount of Kirkwall, having taken over after Dumar's death at the hands of the qunari Arishok.  She was openly anti-mage, and her dual occupations of Viscount as well as Knight-Commander of Kirkwall raised many eyebrows all over the Free Marches and southern Thedas.  Her rule was in fact one of the reasons Talia was so surprised to find that both Cassandra and Cullen still lived and worked in Kirkwall.  The police force there was small, mostly overshadowed by the stranglehold the Templars had on the city, and Stannard was notoriously stubborn when it came to the city's police stepping into her Templars' business. 

            "What, ah," she swallowed over the sudden tightness in her throat.  "What made him leave the Templars?" 

            Varric shrugged.  "You'd have to ask him.  All I know is that before he came to Kirkwall, something happened to him, something bad.  Meredith's opinions and rise to power offered him some safety."  He glanced at her.  "I always assumed it had to be something to do with mages in his previous station, given his… comments." 

            "Like what?" 

            Now he hesitated, glancing around to see if Dorian was returning with their drinks.  "…I'm not sure you want to know." 

            Something clicked in her head, and Talia turned to face him, her mouth a hard line.  "He was the Knight-Captain Hawke was always talking to in the _Tale_ , wasn't he?"  The author's note inside the book stated that all names (other than Hawke's, and his own) had been changed, jauntily proclaiming that this was to protect the innocent or guilty as needed.  While Meredith wasn't hard to figure out, even under her cleverly altered name of Melody Sandbard, many of the other characters were obscured enough by name or description changes that their true identities had been protected. 

            One Templar had stood out to Talia, the Knight-Captain.  He was written as a brute, always fighting with Hawke about the rights of mages and the correct path of the Order and its duties.  She'd disliked him on first read, and found little to redeem his character after the battle with the Arishok that was the book's climax. 

            "…yes," Varric said.  He would not make eye contact with her. 

            “How much of it was true?” 

            “Oh, basically none of it,” he dismissed, but he still wouldn’t look at her. 

            “Varric."  Her voice was firm.  "How much of it was true?” 

            The dwarf sighed before lifting his head to meet her eyes.  “All of it.” 

Talia tried to ignore the sinking feeling in her chest, the cold that had washed over her, but it was too much.  Suddenly Hawke's words made sense. 

            "Talia, look, he's a different guy now.  He left the Templars years ago, after a series of fugitive mages Hawke hunted down turned out to be innocent but were branded anyway.  I don't know the details of his decision, but he wouldn't stand by and let the Order do that anymore." 

            Talia shivered, her dress no longer enough to keep her warm.  "That wasn't in the book." 

            Varric recoiled.  "Of course not, it wasn't important. You know, at the time, for Hawke," he added quickly when Talia's face went white.  "Listen to me."  He grabbed her elbow, his fingertips digging into her flesh, and Talia's eyes met his.  "You can't judge Cullen based on some story I wrote to keep Hawke out of the Gallows.  The story needed a villain, and Meredith just wasn't present enough." 

            She pulled her arm away from him.  "So you choose him?" 

            "How was I supposed to know he'd change? That he'd turn out to be a good person after all?"  When she didn't respond, Varric sighed.  "He's a good man, now.  Aveline speaks very highly of him over at the precinct, and he's helped keep Hawke safe.  Sure, he's said some awful things, but who hasn't?" 

            "Not like that," she said, her eyes now on Hawke and Isabela, who had begun a complicated looking jig that involved kicking their legs in sync while Fenris beckoned for them to get down.  "I can't… You said that he… Dorian wouldn't…"  She couldn't get the words out, couldn't wrap her mind around such hatred as she'd read coming from this man she now knew.  The man who had cried in her arms for his dead mother, who had carried her into the house after the obstacle course, who had flirted with her and helped her clean things and…

            … and who hated mages, didn't think they were worthy of being people, who was part of the Order that dragged them helpless through the streets and imprisoned them for life just for an accident of birth. 

            She thought she might be sick. 

            "Dorian wouldn't what?"  The man in question asked, coming up behind them.  He held out a glass of red wine to Talia, who took it and drained it in a few swallows.  Varric stared, his own mug forgotten in his hand. 

            Dorian looked from Talia's empty glass to Varric's empty face.  "What did I miss?" 

            Hawke and Isabela choose this moment to climb off the piano and join them, brooding elf in tow.  "I like the look of this," Hawke announced, clinking her mug off Talia's empty glass.  "We getting fucked up?"  She glanced around the small circle.  Isabela looked gleeful, though Talia didn't know her well enough to know if that wasn't just her normal look.  Varric looked hesitant while Dorian's mischievous smile spread under his mustache. 

            "Perhaps?"  he intoned, glancing around and catching Talia's eye.  She reached over and grabbed his wine too, slugging it down before planting the glass on the closest table with a crash. 

            "Let's get fucked up," she announced, to a cacophony of shouting that did little to overwhelm the roaring in her ears. 

 


	8. Chapter 8

Cullen stood outside the cell studying its occupants, his arms crossed.  Beside him, Cassandra flipped through the police report, making small frustrated noises as she read the charges.  When she finished, she offered it to Cullen, who gestured that he didn't need it.  He'd heard the list of charges from the arresting officer; he didn't need to read it again. 

            The four people in the cell in front of him slept on, oblivious. 

            Talia lay face down on the bench, her sweater bunched under her head and one combat boot missing, revealing a fleet of mabari puppies scampering across her socks.  Dorian was sitting passed out on the ground in front of her, his head thrown back to rest against her legs.  He was snoring, though Cullen was sure he'd vehemently deny it should it ever be disclosed.  Just to his left, Hawke and Varric were slumped against each other, Hawke's blonde hair nearly obscuring Varric's face.  The Champion looked as Cullen remembered her, all long legs and skin, and he sighed.  He didn't dislike her, but he didn't particularly care for her either -- Hawke was a burden to be tolerated, and little else. 

            The jangle of keys sounded behind him, and Cullen glanced back.  The Val Royeaux police chief was a personal friend of Cassandra's, and after a few well-placed phone calls, he'd agreed to drop the charges against the four of them.  He unlocked the cell and opened the door, the squeaking of the bars jarring Talia awake. 

            She didn't move much, just opened her eyes a slit and looked around.  Cullen watched as she took in her environment -- those emerald eyes were cloudy as she tried to figure out where she was, and he had no doubts that she was supremely hung over.  When she didn't sit up, only clenched her eyes shut, that suspicion was confirmed. 

            An enormous yawn split her face, and Talia stretched.  Her legs moved too, jolting Dorian awake as his pillow was removed.  He too stared slowly around, not yet willing to move his head more than necessary. 

            A slim, red-headed woman stalked up behind Cullen.  The deep purple of her dress seemed to suck in the light around her, nearly blending her into the shadows.  "They're waking up, I see," she said dryly.  She looked vaguely familiar, but Cullen was having trouble remembering where he'd seen her.    

            "They are," Cassandra said, stepping over.  "Thank you for allowing me to help, Leliana." 

            The woman nodded her head.  "Happy to," she said, her Orlesian accent mixed with something Cullen couldn't place. "I was hoping we'd have drama like this, I just didn't think it would only take a few weeks."  She surveyed the occupants of the cell before producing an air horn from behind her back.  A feral smile spread across her face. "At least the cameras caught it."

            With a gesture, she beckoned a cameraman forward.  He fiddled with his equipment before giving a brief nod.  Cullen braced himself. 

            The air horn gave a loud, horrific squeal, and Hawke jolted up, her dark eyes wide.  Talia jerked at the sound and grabbed frantically for her ears, tumbling off the bench in the process.   One knee collided with the back of Dorian's head on the way down, and the mage made a desperate sound as he slumped to the floor.  Varric squeezed his eyes further shut, his hands dug into the fabric of his jeans.   

            Finally the noise stopped.  Everyone in the cell visibly unclenched. 

            "Rise and shine," Leliana said, smirking.  Cullen could hear the steel underneath her voice, and suddenly the memory of her came rushing back.  She was the one who had first interviewed him about being a participant on the show, back when Cassandra had already signed on.  While she had asked rather innocuous questions, Leliana had been intimidating in a calm, almost forgettable way, like she had been a spymaster in another life.  She'd watched him intently as he spoke, never writing down a word he said, but Cullen knew she remembered every detail. 

            He cringed and wondered how badly she was about to destroy the unfortunate people in the cell before them. 

            Hawke pushed to her feet first, heels still in place, and leaned against the bars.  "Geez, Red, why you gotta wake us up like that?  Have some hangover sympathy." 

            "Hawke," Leliana said coldly, crossing her arms.  "Good to know you haven't changed a bit." 

            "Of course not," the Champion said, feigning offense.  "That would be no fun.  Ah, Seeker," she said, nodding to Cassandra before turning her attention to Cullen.  "And my favorite Templar."  Her voice dropped on his former title, growling a little over the word. 

            "Ex-Templar," Cullen responded automatically. 

            Behind them, Talia and Dorian had stumbled to their feet, Dorian draped over Talia's shoulders.  She was studying her feet, confused etched across her face as she took in her missing boot and puppy socks. 

            "There's dogs on my socks," she mumbled, and Dorian cringed. 

            "Not so loud, dear," he muttered back, rubbing his forehead.  This drew Leliana's attention. 

            "Don't like noise?"  She asked, cocking her head at them.  Dorian stared at her for a moment before slowly lowering his hand. 

            "I'm fine, actually," he said carefully, his eyes glued to the air horn still in her hand. 

            "Oh, then you won't mind," she replied.  She hit the button on top, and the horn shrieked again, sending Dorian and Talia reeling.  Hawke merely closed her eyes until it stopped. 

            "I'm up, I'm up," groused Varric from the floor.  The dwarf stood, one hand extended for balance.  "Stop that shit."  He pondered the trio outside the bars for a moment before speaking.  "Curly, Seeker.  Hope you had as good a night as we did." 

            "No one did, Varric," Cassandra snapped, her features hard.  "You worried us near to death."  Talia's eyes flew to Cullen's face, meeting his eyes for just a moment before looking quickly away.  She blushed. 

            Before Cullen could step forward, Leliana spoke again, and this time her voice was deadly.  "This is a disgrace.  You broke a dozen laws, not to mention every rule on the show.” She proceeded to list off their offenses, including harassing the Chantry sisters and desecrating the Val Royeaux gardens.  Dorian tried but failed to suppress his snort of laughter at this last charge, and Leliana rounded on him. 

            "You think this is funny?"  She snapped, her pale eyes flashing.  "Not only did you violate every line of your contract with the show, someone could have been hurt.  I'm sure that didn't occur to you while you were flying Talia around the square, did it?"  Cullen's heart clenched.  He hadn't read about that on the list of charges, and judging by the looks on their faces, Dorian and Talia didn't realize they'd been caught on camera.  How could they have done something so stupid? 

            "And you," Leliana said, rounding on Hawke, who had been standing there smirking like the one kid in class who didn't get in trouble.  "You are banned from the show and all its extensions, effective immediately.  Your signature guaranteed your behavior, but I should have known better."  She gave Hawke a cold once-over.  "Some Champion you are." 

            "Hey, now that's unfair--" Varric began, but Leliana interrupted him. 

            "You spent two years putting this together, Varric, and you'd throw it away for a drunken night with your old Kirkwall friends?"  She demanded.  "None of us, including Josephine or Solas, agreed to run your little pet project just so you could destroy it from the inside." 

            "Wait a second," Dorian interrupted.  " _Varric's_ little project?" 

            "Shut it," Talia muttered, elbowing him.  Leliana's eyes slid over to them. 

            "You," she said, and Cullen stiffened, realizing she was directing her ire at Talia now.  "You were brought in as the one with the most common sense of all the idiots in the house, and yet this is how the night turned out." 

            Talia's face contorted.  "You can't blame this on me," she snapped, her eyes locked on the producer's. 

            "Your name is listed first under 'resisted arrest.' And the officer who brought you in regaled me with the list of insults you hurled at him.  Apparently you have quite the mouth on you." 

            "Because I tried to stop it, and they were assholes!" Talia insisted.  Her face reddened, frustration hardening her features.  Cullen couldn't help feeling defensive for Talia's sake -- she likely had been caught up with Dorian's antics, or perhaps Hawke's, and didn't have much to do with the whole 'getting arrested' thing. 

            Her eyes flicked to him briefly, as if sensing his thoughts, but she quickly looked away. 

            "Be that as it may," Leliana said, turning to face the whole group again.  "This will never happen again.  And if it does, I will leave you here to rot."  She turned to leave.  "I leave them in your custody, Cassandra," she said, waving a hand dismissively at them over her shoulder.  The sharp sound of her heels faded down the hallway. 

            Cullen glanced at Cassandra, trusting her lead.  She stepped to Leliana's former position in front of the cell.  "None of you came back last night," she said.  Her voice was tinged with concern, though it was hard to tell under her clipped words.  "We were concerned something had happened." 

            Talia blushed, and Varric avoided the Seeker's gaze. 

            "Do not do that to us again," Cassandra said before stepping out of the way.  She opened the cell door further.  "Hawke.  There is a car outside to take you home.  I believe Fenris is with it." 

            The blonde woman studied her for a moment.  Even hung-over, Hawke was striking, her eyes stilled rimmed with kohl and her lips curled in a smirk that would have stopped a qunari in his tracks.  She cocked her head at Cassandra before uncoiling from the cell bars like an enormous cat, all fluidity and grace.  "Trust me," she said as she moved toward the door.  "This isn't the last you'll see of me."  Cassandra's dark eyes followed her.  "Have fun with your little friend, Templar," she said, blowing Cullen a sloppy kiss.  He glared at her, but Hawke just laughed, her hips rolling as she walked away. 

            "That woman is a menace," Dorian observed. 

            "Most of Kirkwall agrees with you," Cassandra replied.  "Let’s go.  The shuttle is waiting to take us back to Skyhold."  The three filed out behind Cassandra, Cullen taking up the rear.  Talia passed him, her arm around Dorian's waist to support him, but she did not so much as glance his way. 

            "Talia," Cullen said softly, reaching for her.  His fingertips brushed her bare shoulder, and she flinched away. 

            "What?"  She barely looked at him, and he was left to speak awkwardly to her back. 

            "Are you all right?"  He found himself rubbing his neck, unsure what to say. 

            She turned away.  "I'm fine," she said coldly, and kept walking. 

            Cullen stared after her.  "Wait," he called, his feet moving to catch up with her.  "Are you sure?  You don't…" 

            "I'm fine, Cullen," she snapped. 

            He jerked back like he'd been slapped.  "O-okay."  She hurried off, dragging Dorian with her toward the exit.  From just behind Cassandra, Varric turned and gave Cullen a sympathetic look before he too headed out. 

            Cullen was left behind to stare after them and wonder what had changed. 

\---

            After talking with Varric, most of Talia's night was a blur.  She had vague memories of playing in a fountain in one of Val Royeaux's many gardens, and she was pretty sure that Dorian had picked her up at one point.  Lots of wine and later whiskey had been consumed, and she remembered getting in a shouting match with Hawke about something, though she couldn't pinpoint what. 

            Everything else vanished into a haze of too much alcohol, and yet not enough to drown out the endless cycle of thoughts and revelations about Cullen. 

            She had no idea what to do. 

            How could she? She'd never been in a situation like this before, where she cared about someone in the present and yet found they had such a horrific past.  Granted, she knew about rough pasts -- she had enough secrets floating around her life, and if she were honest with herself, there were probably a few that would make any reasonable person flee in horror. 

            But this past, this version of Cullen she couldn't see anymore, bothered her. 

            So she avoided him.  It was cowardly, and the first time she ducked into a closet when she heard him coming, she nearly died of embarrassment.  It escaped her notice that if she could recognize the sound of his footsteps, she was probably too far gone anyway. 

            Avoidance turned out to be much harder than she'd thought.  She’d step into the bathrooms, he’d step out, no small amount of blushing occurring as she tried not to talk to him and he clearly tried to talk to her.  She’d pass through the kitchen and he’d be making lunch, prompting a fast turn-around to avoid a conversation.  Once, she wandered past the gym and found him doing push-ups with Blackwall.  When he looked up and noticed her, he immediately leapt to his feet to talk to her, and she turned tail and fled. 

            It was not a permanent solution, but she didn't know what else to do. 

            And it didn't help that, despite her reservations, she still itched to talk to him, touch him, the fantasy of what that kiss could have been like still floating around her treacherous mind. 

            She had to figure something out, and fast.  She saw the hurt looks Cullen gave her, the confusion on Cassandra's face when she avoided him, heard the disappointment lacing Dorian's inquiries into how things were going, and the near-patronizing concern when Varric asked if she was okay. 

            And it was thus that she found herself in Skyhold's enormous library late one night, searching for a copy of _The Tale of the Champion_.  It turned out to be on a low shelf in the back corner, near a plush maroon armchair and a lamp.  Before long, she was settled in and reading, flipping idly through Hawke's adventures in the Deep Roads as she searched for the Knight-Captain of the Gallows to make an appearance. 

            It didn't take long -- the Knight-Captain had been the one to drag Hawke's younger sister to the Circle, and from there things only got worse.  At every turn, he seemed to be trying to justify his actions, explaining that this was just his job or acting just offended enough at the so-called 'Tranquil Solution' that Hawke would stop shy of actually attacking him.  It didn't matter.  Knowing that this was real, that the statements that issued from the Knight-Captain's mouth were _him_ and not just horrific caricatures of the Templars in the Gallows, made Talia's stomach twist more and more with each word. 

            It was well past midnight before Talia looked up from the book, and even then it was only because someone else joined her in the library. 

            Cullen. 

            He lingered in the doorway until Talia looked up, and even then he didn't move.  "Hi," he said softly, his amber gaze trained on her. 

            Talia didn't move either.  "Hi." 

            "Can I come in?" 

            She adjusted herself in the chair, her legs tucked under her, and resumed reading.  "It's your house too," she said. 

            It took a moment before Cullen actually entered the room, and even longer for him to take a seat near her.  She could feel his eyes on her, the intensity he radiated surrounding her, and gradually her mind wandered, her attention no longer on the book in front of her. 

            "You've been avoiding me," he observed eventually. 

            She didn't respond. 

            "I was worried when you didn't make it back to the bus last weekend," he continued.  "I didn't know what had happened.  I… still don't.  I mean, I know the basics, but I don't…" When she glanced up, he wasn't looking at her. 

            She fought the urge to be cold for a moment, that base part of her repulsed by his mere presence, and lost.  "What do you want, Cullen?" 

            His eyes shifted to her.  Hurt shifted like broken glass in their depths, and his brow furrowed, the lines of his face tense and tight.  "What did I do wrong?" 

            Talia studied him for a moment before she held up the book, the title visible even in the low light of the library.  "How much of this is true?"  She demanded, and she watched Cullen deflate, confusion and hurt giving way to understanding, and shame. 

            The answer to her question washed over his face long before he spoke.  His eyes closed, then clenched, as he relived whatever had happened in Kirkwall.  He shifted in his seat, burying his face in his hands for a moment before his rough voice leaked through his fingers.  "All of it." 

            The question she really wanted to ask burst out of her, judgmental and harsh.  "How could you do that?" 

            He gave a forced, mirthless laugh and dropped his hands.  "Sadly, I must ask which thing you're referring to.  It was… not a time in my life that I'm proud of." 

            "I don't know who would be proud of _any_ of it," she retorted, oddly satisfied at the hurt that flashed across his face.  Cullen didn't respond, only trained his eyes straight ahead and waited. 

            "The mages… the things you said and did to the mages.  How could you?" 

            His eyes drifted closed again, and he heaved a sigh.  "There is no justification for what I did.  For what I am responsible for, even if I didn't have a direct hand in it all.  I…"  He didn't finish the thought, only let his answer hang in the air. 

            Talia closed the book with a snap.  "Then what in the Maker's name is different now?"  She demanded, and as she spoke, her anger grew.  "What kind of person does things like that?  Hurts innocent people?  And then tricks others into caring about them, acting like they are so broken and vulnerable.  I was starting to care about you, and then this!  So what is all this, Cullen? Some elaborate trick just to fuck with me?"  She hadn't meant to reveal so much, either to Cullen or to their audience, but everything poured out without much permission or oversight from her brain. 

            Cullen sat and took it, never protesting or trying to deny anything.  When she'd stopped shouting, her voice still ringing among the stacks of the library, he risked a glance at her.  "I made a choice, Talia.  I saw what the Templars were becoming, and I acted.  I left." 

            There were tears in her eyes now, and she wiped them angrily away.  "Why? What changed?" 

            To her surprise, Cullen gestured at the book in her lap.  "Varric published the Tale just after the qunari invasion ended, and Hawke gave me a copy.  I remember reading it and seeing myself on the page, and I thought… I couldn't…"  He took a deep breath.  When he spoke again, his voice was very quiet.  "I never realized that's what I was." 

            Talia couldn't help the dry laugh that barked its way out of her.  "So that's it? You read some book and had an epiphany?  Peace and love to all the mages?" 

            Cullen shook his head, dropping his chin to his chest.  A hollow laugh echoed from him.  "Nothing so poetic.  I denied that it was like that, that _I_ was like that.  It took months.  And then one day Hawke brought a set of mages to the Gallows.  They'd escaped, and Meredith suspected them of being blood mages, so she'd asked Hawke to investigate."  He turned to look at Talia, his expression dark and pained.  "They'd done nothing wrong.  One had been raped, and so her best friends got her out, away from the Templar who'd…  Anyway, there was no evidence of blood magic, just some scared kids." 

            He paused and took a deep, shaky breath.  Talia listened closely, her chest tight. 

            "She branded them.  All three, no hesitation.  She wouldn't listen to their story.  She didn't even ask the Templar's name so we could investigate, she just… I was her second in command then.  It didn't take long to realize that if I continued on that path, I would end up just like her."

            "You didn't see that you already were?"  The question left her mouth before she could stop it, and Talia desperately wished she could take it back at the expression that crossed Cullen's face. 

            "Of course I did," he snapped, defensive, before he deflated.  "But I… It is far easier to see mistakes in others than in ourselves." 

            For the first time in days, the cycle of thoughts in Talia's head abated.  His words resonated through her, dredging up memories of all the times she'd found fault to go around but none for herself.  It was a far more common occurrence in her life than she wanted to admit. 

            Cullen watched her roll his words around for a while before he spoke again.  "When Cassandra offered me a way out, I took it."  He did not elaborate, and Talia didn't ask.  It had been a long time since he left the Gallows -- nearly four years, if she remembered the first day at Skyhold clearly -- and that he had left was testament enough. 

            Still, she had to know.  "Do you still feel that way now?" 

            "What way?  Like I did in Varric's book?"  She nodded, and Cullen sighed, air rushing from his lungs. 

            "I won't lie," he answered.  "I am still hesitant.  I've seen what magic can do, and Kirkwall is a dangerous place.  I may not be a Templar any longer, but I still have poor experiences." 

            Talia didn't know how to process this.  Was hesitation really better than outright prejudice?  Was it enough of a change? Or did it just pave the way for a backslide into old hatred? 

            She could feel Cullen's eyes on her, studying her as he waited for her reaction.  The thought occurred to her that perhaps she should just walk away -- leave the room, wall off her feelings until the show was over, and just forget she ever met this man before her. 

            Instead, a question snuck out of her.  "… Will it happen again?"  Staying meant dealing with these questions, and hard as was it, she couldn't bring herself to push him away. 

            Cullen's brow furrowed.  "Will… what, happen again?" 

            "Hatred," she supplied softly.  "Prejudice.  Anything like what happened in the book." 

            His gaze dropped.  "I want to say no," he whispered.  "And as much as I can promise it, it is no." 

            Talia could hear it in his voice, the lingering darkness he was trying so hard to deny.  "But…" 

            He rubbed a hand over his neck, looking out over the shadows of the library around them.  "My experiences haunt me still.  There are… no guarantees." 

            "You said you were in an accident, once." 

            "A long time ago," he said quickly, as if anxious to stop the flow of conversation.  "It changed me." 

            Talia didn't ask, only took a deep breath.  "I don't know if I can…" she began, trailing off when she wasn't sure how to finish. 

            Cullen nodded, still not looking at her.  "I understand," he said, his voice hardening over the rough scrape of pain.  "I would take it all back, atone for it, if I could."  

            All her anger came flooding back.  " _How_ , Cullen?  All that pain you caused, the injuries you admit you didn't stop -- how do you make up for that?"

            He didn't answer.   Instead, his mouth twitched several times as if he wanted to speak, and he dropped his chin to his chest.  With a deep breath, he looked up at her, and when his voice finally came, it was quiet but firm.  "I stopped taking lyrium." 

            The words stopped her cold.  "Lyrium…" she repeated, not quite able to grasp what he'd said.  "The stuff that gives Templars their abilities, that lyrium?" 

            Cullen nodded, and for the first time, Talia noticed that his hands were shaking.  "I won't be bound to the order, or that life, any longer.  I can't, not after what I was becoming."  He took another deep breath.  "What I became." 

            A long, heavy silence followed as Talia tried to remember everything she knew about lyrium.  The Chantry's arm was long, and even a lapsed Andrastian like herself was familiar with the sparkling blue substance.  It was what gave Templars their abilities over mages, the abilities that were so often touted as protecting the public from the hazards that mages presented.  But it also created an addiction -- she recalled hearing of Templars thrown out of the Order and reduced to begging for lyrium in the streets in a struggle to stay alive.  Her reporting had once come across a Chantry mother who told her about the Chantry using lyrium to keep its Templars docile, upping dosages for those who questioned its actions or lowering it for those who disobeyed. 

            This memory was still rolling through her mind when Talia realized that they were on camera, here in the darkness of the library.  She sat up suddenly, her eyes roving the corners of the room until she found the one aimed at them. 

            The one that had just picked up their conversation, ready to spread it throughout Thedas. 

            A shiver moved through her, and she was struck with the urge to reach out to Cullen -- to touch his shoulder, take his hand, anything to emphasize that she was here beside him, for as he'd told her his secret, he'd also told everyone who'd ever had a mind to watch their reality TV show.  His siblings, that worrywart of a big sister he'd mentioned the night he told her about his family, all his colleagues in the Special Forces back home, the show's producers, even her own brother: everyone would know now, and there was no stopping it. 

            "Cullen…" She said softly, her eyes finding his.  "The show…" 

            "I know," he replied, his voice just as soft.  "I don't care.  I needed you to know." 

            "Isn't that dangerous?  I met someone once who said all sorts of awful things happened, and--" 

            "There is potential, yes," he interrupted before she could list off all the dangers.  "Some go mad, others die." 

            "So this could…" 

            "It hasn't yet."  She stared at him, knowing fear was etched across her face, and he gave her a tight smile.  "Cassandra is helping me, and I trust her judgment," he explained.  "Should it get that bad, there are… things, we can do."  He didn't elaborate. 

            "Cullen…"  His name echoed through the library, nothing following it as Talia had no idea what else to say.  He stood up slowly.  His steps toward her were measured, careful, but in moments, he was before her, close enough to touch.  She reached for him, and he caught her fingers with his.  "Are you okay?"  

            "I can endure it," he replied. 

            The book in her lap tumbled to the ground as she stood, stumbling at little at how close Cullen was to her.  His arm was around her in an instant, supporting her, and she recognized it for permission as she hugged him. 

            "Thank you for telling me," she murmured into his chest, and he held her tighter in response. 

            "I needed you to know," he repeated, his head resting against hers. 

            They held each other for a moment before Talia was willing to speak.  "I'm still not sure I'm willing to trust you," she said, ignoring the conflict of her words as she stood in his arms. 

            "I understand," he replied.  His arms tightened around her, and Talia allowed her eyes to drift closed. 

            "If you're willing to do this to make amends," she began, pressing her face into his chest.  "Then I can try.  I _will_ try." 

            Turning, he pressed his lips into her temple.  "Thank you," he said softly.  He exhaled shakily against her hair, his body trembling the slightest bit, and Talia felt something warm and soft curling through her chest, something that felt an awful lot like forgiveness.      


	9. Chapter 9

When Cullen made his way into the living room for movie night, Skyhold’s official week 4 activity, he was not at all surprised to find Cassandra already there.  The tall Seeker stood waiting, arms crossed, in front of the TV the techs had brought in.  Sera sat on the back of the couch before her, legs swinging and just missing the back of Blackwall’s head where the older man sat nearby.  Vivienne was folded regally into the armchair in the far corner of the room. 

            “What’s going on?”  Cullen asked, looking around. 

            “We’re having a house meeting.  Varric went to get the others,” Cassandra said, her dark eyes never leaving the other occupants of the room. 

            Cullen glanced around before leaning in to Cassandra.  “You look pissed.” 

            “No one’s done chores except me for nearly a month.  Of course I am upset.” 

            Dorian’s voice rang out, loud and frustrated, before Cullen could answer.  “Unhand me, you brute! What is the meaning of this?” 

            “Calm your tits, Dorian,” Iron Bull said as they followed Varric into the living room.  His big hand was locked around Dorian’s upper arm, dragging the mage forward.  Cullen clenched his eyes shut as the memory of doing the same long ago flashed through his head.  The headaches were getting worse of late, as if opening up to Talia about his addiction had somehow invited the withdrawals in too.  He'd slept well enough that night, but the nights since had been plagued with nightmares, and too often Cullen woke soaked with sweat and unable to fall back asleep. 

            He saw Cassandra turn those sharp eyes to him and quickly tried to school his expression into something less revealing.  Maker only knew what Cassandra would have him doing if she suspected his withdrawals were getting worse.  She'd already lengthened their runs -- next would be kale and elfroot smoothies or some such nonsense.  He didn't mind the exercise, but he drew the line at kale. 

            Talia walked in a moment later, pulling Cullen out of his head.   Her workout gear and concert T's had been abandoned tonight in favor of, of all things, her pajamas, and he couldn’t help his smile.  Cassandra smiled as well, though hers was at Cullen’s expense, but he didn’t mind; if she thought him a love-sick fool, then so be it. 

            He knew he was staring, but when Talia saw him and smiled back, everything else vanished.  

            With a quick glance at Cassandra, who only smirked, Cullen made his way over to Talia.  While nothing at all like their almost-kiss a week before had happened, the conversation in the library had smoothed things over a bit; tension still simmered between them, and she’d stopped avoiding him.  They weren’t quite back to actively seeking each other out, but Maker knew even Cullen had a hard time dealing with his past – he couldn’t begrudge her a little space to do the same. 

            She leaned against the couch next to Sera, who promptly ruffled her hair.  The petite elf ruffled Cullen’s too the moment he stopped next to Talia and giggled. 

            “Now you match,” she announced, looking pleased with herself. 

            Cullen reached a self-conscious hand up and tried to comb his hair back into place.  "Thanks, Sera." 

            Talia caught his wrist, her fingertips cool against his skin.  "Leave it," she said softly, her cheeks coloring slightly.  "It's cute." 

            He dropped his hand like he was in slow-motion, the corner of his mouth tugging up as she refused to relinquish her grip.  "Okay," he replied.  "But only if …"  His other hand rose without hesitation to tuck her dark hair behind one ear, the pad of his thumb brushing her cheek.  Surprised at his own boldness, he blushed, but Talia smiled freely at his touch. 

            "Break it up, lovebirds!"  Sera ruffled Cullen's hair further, and he cringed, knowing the gel was loosening to send his curls skyrocketing.  But it was worth it for the sly smile Talia gave him just as Cassandra started speaking.  She'd dropped his hand when Sera spoke, yes, but she'd shifted just a little closer to him too. 

            Logically, he knew what the Seeker had to say was important: Nothing was getting done in the house.  Dorian and Vivienne hadn't done their laundry since their arrivals, and neither had Varric.  Sera loved to make a mess in the kitchen, but refused to clean up after herself.  Just about every bedroom was a mess, and not one person had even considered scrubbing out their showers or toilets. 

            But he wasn't thinking very logically just then.  Instead, he was wondering just how close he could get to Talia before she noticed.  Would she scoot away or press herself into him?   Would he be able to smell her shampoo, that crystal grace scent he'd caught when he carried her into the house all those weeks ago? How warm would her back be if he draped an arm around her waist? Would she cuddle against him, maybe wrap her arm around him in return?

            In her attempt to listen, Talia had leaned against the back of the couch with her chin propped up on one hand.  A tiny, amused smirk was painted across her lips as Cassandra lectured on, and Cullen edged closer.  His elbow bumped hers, jostling her, but instead of getting annoyed, she just turned that smile to him. 

            "Hi," she said softly.  Cullen nodded hello, not wanting to interrupt his friend and colleague, and Talia raised her eyebrows at him, amused. Very carefully, he scooted close enough to bump his hip against hers, and she giggled. 

            Cassandra shot them a look that could have felled a dragon.  

            Talia straightened. "Pay attention," she hissed out of the corner of her mouth.

            "I'm trying," he hissed back, knowing he was doing no such thing while she stood beside him. 

            A few minutes later, he was just starting to work up the courage to move close enough that their sides would be pressed together when Cassandra turned her ire on Sera, and the elf immediately protested. 

            “I don’ clean,” she insisted.  “I bake, an' Widdle cleans back home, so someone else’s gotta clean here.  Make Varric do it, he cooks!” 

            “I grill!” The dwarf insisted, but Cassandra waved him off. 

            “That’s not the point, Sera,” she said, her lecture resuming.  It was too late – Sera started howling about cleaning when no one else had to, and even when Blackwall tried to intervene and comfort her, she kept right on going. 

            “How about we sort out the laundry problem, huh?” Iron Bull pointed out when Sera wouldn’t be quieted, and Cassandra shot him a grateful look.  Cullen did too, though Bull didn’t notice it; with everyone’s eyes on their couch, he hadn’t been able to move.  Now he inched toward Talia until their shoulders were touching.  She hesitated before leaning against him, enough that no one would notice but Cullen could feel her weight.  He fought off the urge to wrap his arms around her and pull her into his chest, knowing that would just make her uncomfortable.  It was still too much, despite the warmth and smiles exchanged between them.

            But as they listened to Vivienne and Dorian argue with Cassandra over the merits of having someone else do their laundry, Talia’s arm inched close to Cullen’s until their skin was pressed together.   It wasn’t quite the touch he wanted, not yet, but it was just enough. 

            The ball of tension in his chest eased to find that she wasn’t repulsed by him.  It was the reaction he most feared, the reason he kept so much of his past to himself: that paralyzing fear that no one would be able to look past what he’d done to see who he was trying to be now.  Some days even he couldn’t do it, absorbed into the darkness of what he’d allowed his life to become after Kinloch Hold.  

            “They don’t do their own laundry?”  Cullen started; Talia had leaned over to whisper in his ear, so close that her lips brushed his skin, but he’d been so lost in thought, he didn’t notice.  It was all he could do to shrug at the spoiled nature of their housemates – he’d found the laundry room not long after their arrival out of necessity, and it had come in handy whenever he sweated through his sheets in the grips of a nightmare. 

            Talia was still remarkably close to him, her brilliant green eyes wandering over his features.   He could see all the tiny details of her face: the mascara clumped in her eyelashes, the barely-there wrinkles across her forehead, a tiny mole at the corner of her mouth.   His eyes lingered there, wondering how soft her lips would be and if her lipstick would cling to him if he leaned over and kissed her right now in the midst of everything else. 

            Then Varric spoke up, and Talia turned back to the room, whatever beginnings of a moment they'd been having lost.  Reluctantly, Cullen pushed his crush back down and tried to listen. 

            “The Seeker has a good point,” the dwarf said, quieting everyone’s bickering.  “We all need to be better about taking care of our house.” 

            There was some general grumbling before Dorian piped up. “You’re the creator of the show.  Why didn’t you lay down some rules about cleaning?”

            “Hey, I don’t like doing laundry either,” Varric replied, glossing smoothly over the revelation to the rest of the group.  Iron Bull, however, caught it. 

            “Hang on,” he interjected.  “YOU created the show?” 

            That huge booming voice grabbed everyone else’s attention, and suddenly all eyes were on Varric. 

            “You’re the reason I’m separated from my Widdle?” Sera demanded. 

            “Well, sort of…” The dwarf began. 

            Blackwall interrupted.  “I’m on the grid because of this show.”  

            “Hey, you applied,” grumbled Dorian before Iron Bull elbowed him.  Vivienne, Cullen noticed, didn’t say anything, just arched one long brow and pursed her lips. 

            Cassandra, however, looked upset.  “Why didn’t you tell us?”  She asked, and when Cullen glanced her way, he was surprised to find genuine hurt on her face.  Something about her and Varric clicked into place as the dwarf finally looked sheepish. 

            Iron Bull spoke up before he could say anything though.  “Hey, guys, come on,” he began.  "Who cares?  We’re all here, of our own volition,” he added, giving Blackwall a look, “We might as well try to make it pleasant for everyone.  What are we gonna do, break out?” 

            Sera laughed.  “We could try!” 

            “I doubt we’d get very far,” Cullen added doubtfully, and Cassandra nodded. 

            Beside him, Talia straightened, and he immediately missed the loss of her warm skin against his.  “I agree with Bull,” she said, smiling around the room.  Cullen watched Dorian brighten as she spoke, an odd sense of pride rippling through him that others agreed with her.  “And I’m rather having fun, so who cares if Varric invented it or we have to clean toilets?  You have to do that at home too.” 

            “Maybe you do,” Dorian muttered, but he was still smiling.  The rest of the room seemed to consider Talia’s words, with Sera reaching out to ruffle her hair again and Blackwall loosening his crossed arms. 

            Vivienne, however, disagreed.  “Of course you’re having fun,” she muttered, soft enough to be under her breath but unmistakably loud enough that everyone could hear.  “You’re getting laid.” 

            There was a beat of horrified silence as Talia’s mouth fell open, and then everything erupted. 

            Sera leapt at Vivienne, held back only by Blackwall’s quick move to grab her as she lunged.  Dorian yanked on his magic, flinging lightning at Vivienne just as the other mage pulled up a barrier.  The spell ricocheted, smashing into the TV behind Cassandra just as the Seeker dodged out of the way.  Iron Bull lunged for Dorian, while Varric tried to make himself bigger between the two mages, something to focus on instead of each other. 

            Magic crackled along the fine hairs of Cullen's arms, the remaining lyrium in his blood singing to life with sudden purpose, and he drew on his Templar abilities before he was even conscious of it.  The purge poured over the living room, its power stripping mage of magic and everyone else of breath as it passed.  He'd stepped instinctually in front of Talia, his arm out to shield her, but she'd been hit with it just like everyone else.  One hand wrapped itself around his bicep, fingers digging into him with an iron grip. 

            "Cullen," she whispered, her voice shaking.  Her other hand bunched in his shirt like she needed something to ground her. 

            He half-turned, eyes still glued to Vivienne and Dorian in case they tried something else, and caught Talia just as she went limp against him.  "Shit.  Talia?  Talia!"   Cullen lowered her to the ground carefully, her hand still wound around his arm, and Cassandra appeared beside them. 

            "Is she okay?"  The Seeker asked, and Cullen glanced at her. 

            "I don't know.  How are you okay?" 

            "Your abilities are less than they were," she replied as she reached out to feel Talia's pulse.  "But both mages are out of commission for a while.  We should take her somewhere quiet." 

            Cullen nodded as he wrapped his arms around the limp woman before him.  In some detached way, he noticed she was a lot heavier when she was dead weight, though even he knew better than to ever tell her that once she recovered.  "I've got her.  Where…?" 

            "Our bedroom," Cassandra supplied.  She led the way out of the living room.  Cullen was only vaguely aware of the groaning that was coming from Dorian where he lay on the couch or the grumbling from Sera and Blackwall -- all his attention was focused on the woman in his arms, the woman who, despite his best efforts, he'd managed to hurt once again. 

            Cassandra opened the bedroom door, and Cullen was hit with a wave of perfumed scents.  Crystal grace and dawn lotus and vanilla all rushed out, and he breathed them in, his eyes drifting closed of their own accord.  In front of him, Cassandra cleared her throat. 

            "Sorry," he muttered, blushing, and stepped over the threshold carefully so he didn't jostle Talia.  Cassandra directed him to lay her gently down on the bed closer to the window.  She flitted around the room as Cullen moved, likely picking up unmentionables that Talia wouldn't want Cullen to see, but he didn't notice.  Instead, he sat down beside Talia.  She had a stuffed mabari at the head of her bed, and her blankets were askew -- such a stark difference from Cassandra's military neat bed on the other side of the room, a mirror of Cullen's own in the bedroom down the hall. 

            He picked up the stuffed animal and tucked it into her elbow.  Hesitantly, as he knew Cassandra was standing over them now, he brushed Talia's hair back over her forehead.  Calloused fingertips grazed her skin, running along her cheek to cup her jaw, and after a moment, a small smile bloomed over her face. 

            Beside Cullen, Cassandra made a soft noise.  "I'm going to check on the others and leave you two alone," she said quietly.  She squeezed Cullen's shoulder, and he glanced up at her gratefully.  

            Talia's hand on his startled him, but he managed not to show it, instead wrapping his fingers around her to squeeze gently.  "Are you okay?"   

            She sat up slowly, smiling as she put her mabari down.  "Yeah, I'm fine.  I can usually withstand a spell purge, I just wasn't expecting it." 

            The full force of what he'd done hit Cullen then, and he pulled away.  "I am so sorry," he murmured, avoiding her eyes.  "I hurt you, again, and I shouldn't have.  I should have better control of my instincts by now, and I just…" 

            "Cullen," she breathed.  "Don't do that to yourself."  She wound her fingers around his and pulled him closer, letting go of his hands only to wrap her arms around him.  For a moment, he stiffened -- _how can she want me to get closer after everything I've put her through?_ \-- and then she buried her face into his neck, his nose pressed into her hair, and he lost himself in her. 

            There were no tears this time as Cullen shifted to hug her tight against him.  The same lost, painful feelings as that night on the couch washed over him, though what he was grieving this time wasn't as clear.  But to sit there in her arms, feeling her fingers card through his hair and know that she had him, was more than he'd ever expected from anyone.  More than he'd ever deserved from anyone. 

            Preserving this comfort between them meant that Cullen had to be better than his former self, and that was all he wanted.  No, that wasn't quite true -- he wanted _her_ , and that meant showing her that he _was_ better, was the man she'd grown to care about, Kirkwall and Kinloch and everything else be damned. 

            So even as every instinct screamed at him to cling to her, Cullen eventually pulled away.  "If you're all right," he began, already missing her warmth against his chest.  "I should go check on everyone else.  I don't… they could be hurt, and they don't deserve that." 

            Talia's eyes searched his face before she nodded.  "Okay.  I'll be along in a minute."  She hesitated before quickly leaning in and pressing a kiss to Cullen's cheek.  Her skin was flaming when she pulled away, but Maker knew Cullen's was too.  "Good luck." 

            He nodded, unsure what to say and fighting to urge to kiss her proper, and stood to make his way back to the living room. 

            The shouting echoed down the hallway, Vivienne’s voice mixed with Cassandra’s as the Seeker no doubt tried to mitigate the mess he'd left in his wake when he got there.  

            “Are you hurt, Vivienne? That’s my only concern!” Cassandra shouted just as Cullen entered the room. 

            “It takes more than some washed-up Templar to hurt me, Cassandra!” Vivienne shouted back.  Cullen could see tiny blue flames licking along her arms as she crossed them over her chest.  Behind her, Blackwall and Iron Bull still looked nervous.  Sera was sitting on the floor next to Dorian, who was prone like he’d fainted – but the slits of his eyes as he watched the rest of the room gave him away. 

            Cullen moved to help him up, neatly sidestepping Varric as the dwarf tried to force himself between Cassandra and Vivienne. 

            “Are you all right?” Cullen asked quietly as he pulled Dorian to his feet. 

            The Tevinter brushed himself up and tucked his hair back into place.  “Of course I am, my dear Templar.  I merely wanted to be part of the drama of the moment.”  He flashed Cullen a brilliant smile. 

            Cullen chuckled.  “And I suppose hurling lightning around the room wasn’t enough?” Despite everything, he liked Dorian.  The mage might be dramatic, but he was also a friend. 

            “I missed, didn’t I?”  He winked before stepping away, leaving Cullen and Sera to shift awkwardly next to each other. 

            Before he could open his mouth to apologize, Cullen found Sera’s lanky arms wrapped tight around his waist. “You take care of Tali, and that makes you good people,” she muttered into his chest.  “I like you again.”  As quickly as she’d hugged him, she pulled away, scampering off into the house before Cassandra could remember that she still needed to clean the kitchen. 

            Cullen stood frozen in place for a long moment after she left.  Vivienne and Cassandra were still fighting, a healthy dose of Iron Bull’s pragmatic suggestions and Varric’s attempts to settle them not sitting well.  Dorian had stepped up behind Cass to make inappropriate gestures at Vivienne, which to Cullen’s best guess was his attempt at supporting the Seeker. 

            He took a deep breath before rolling his shoulders back.  “All of you, sit down!”  His voice cut through the shouting, and they turned to him almost as one, a gesture that would have been amusing under different circumstances.  “That was not a polite suggestion,” he added when no one moved, and suddenly the seats and cushions around the low coffee table were filled. 

            Cullen studied them for a moment, wondering if anyone except Cassandra would even consider listening to him.  His heart was pounding, adrenaline coursing through him.  Stepping in front of a pissed off mage, especially one as powerful as Vivienne, turned his stomach, but someone had to quell the chaos.  He'd done it before in his Templar days, and he could do it now.  

            With another deep breath, he pushed the slight edge of panic away from his mind and dropped into parade rest, hands clasped behind his back. 

            “Is anyone hurt?”  He asked cautiously, and when no one answered, he gave a small prayer of thanks to the Maker that he hadn’t injured anyone.  “Good.  I apologize for the purge, but I did not have a choice.  The situation was dangerous, and I acted.” 

            “Dangerous for me especially,” Vivienne interjected.  “I had no idea the Tevinter could attack us without penalty.” 

            Cullen turned his attention to the mage, and to his surprise, she shrank back.  “Dorian will face consequences for his choice, as will you for your disrespectful comments.” Vivienne opened her mouth, but Cullen held up a silencing hand.  “I will not hear excuses, and before you can argue, know that I would respond the same for anything said against anyone in this house.” 

            “So it’s not just those you are fucking,” she muttered, and Cullen shot Dorian a murderous look before the mage could get started.    

            When he felt assured that no one would retaliate, he turned to Varric.  “What would you suggest for those who cannot play well with others?” 

            The dwarf smiled, a long, wicked smile that suggested he’d been hoping for this kind of drama.  “The house has technicians for everything, including groundskeepers and maids.  It would be a simple task to give one of them a few days off.” 

            Cullen spotted Cassandra nodding out of the corner of his eye, and he inclined his head to her, allowing her to step up.  “Vivienne will take over cleaning the bathrooms,” Cassandra announced.  “And Dorian can handle cleaning the pool.  There will be no magic involved, just as there will be no magic used again in this house.” 

            Vivienne crossed her arms and said nothing.  Dorian opened his mouth to argue, but at another look from Cullen, had the good sense to bite back his distaste.  “For how long?”  He asked instead. 

            “A week,” Cassandra replied without hesitation. 

            “That seems fair,” Iron Bull intoned, and Blackwall nodded his agreement. 

            “What about Sera?”  Blackwall asked after a moment, and Cassandra heaved a sigh. 

            “Perhaps the punishment should fit the crime,” suggested a voice from the doorway, and Cullen glanced over to find Talia standing there watching.  “She’s not doing her part to clean up – maybe she should have to clean up after meals for the next week.” 

            “If you can catch her,” Blackwall joked, but he nodded nonetheless. 

            “How in Thedas are you planning on enforcing any of this?” Vivienne demanded.  The tension in the room immediately charged back up.  “You can’t expect me to work and feel comfortable with this Templar brute standing over my shoulder.”  She gestured vaguely at Cullen, who did his best to bite his tongue.  Suddenly he understood Sera’s motives a little better. 

            It was Cassandra, however, who answered.  “I expect there will be no issues, Vivienne, or need I remind you that it is still technically illegal to use magic outside properly sanctioned channels?  Your privileges from Montsimmard did not transfer with you.” 

            Vivienne stood and swept from the room without another word.  The group watched her go for a long moment, and just as Dorian opened his mouth to make a snide comment, Blackwall spoke.  “She’s a nice enough lady,” he said quietly.  “And she deals with enough shit for her position, lonely as it is.  Don’t be the ones to antagonize her.” 

            “She started it,” Dorian snapped, but Iron Bull put a big hand on his shoulder. 

            “Blackwall’s right, Dorian,” he rumbled.  “Let her be.” 

            “Are you suggested I just let her get away with insulting people, because if that’s so --”

            “I’m suggesting,” Iron Bull said, raising his voice a touch.  “That you remember that you were lonely once too.” 

            “Nobility means loneliness,” Talia said softly from the corner of the room, and all the remaining eyes turned to her.  “I just mean…”  She cleared her throat.  “She plays the Game, and there’s nothing welcoming about the Orlesian court.  She’s probably never experienced anything like this before.” 

            “Have any of us?” Cassandra asked softly, her eyes trained on Talia’s face. 

            “No, and that’s why we can’t hold it against each other,” Talia replied.  The tension of the room started to bleed away as she spoke, and Cullen’s heart swelled as he listened.  “We don’t know each other, not really, and this is… stressful, at times.  We have to take care of each other.” 

            With a nod to Talia, Varric stepped up.  “Sunburst’s right,” he began, and Cullen watched the ghost of a smile twitch across Talia’s face at the sudden nickname.  “I didn’t intend for people to get snippy or hate each other, that wasn’t the point of this thing.  I wanted to see what kinds of friendships and alliances and relationships might form, not who was going to electrocute who.” 

            Varric kept right on talking, laying out his ideas for this social experiment with surprising honesty, but Cullen wasn’t listening anymore.  His attention was trained on Talia, watching how she shifted where she stood, transferring her weight from one leg to another the longer Varric talked.   A blanket hung over her shoulders, suggesting she hadn’t fully recovered, and her face was guarded despite the earnestness of her plea. 

Those words suggested a familiarity with loneliness and pain that Cullen wouldn’t want for anyone, let alone someone as bright as Talia Trevelyan.   It struck him that he didn’t really know her – she had a dog, and a brother, but that was about it; he didn’t know her life, her goals, what she enjoyed or hated.  He didn’t know what her favorite season was or if she liked action movies or what kinds of jokes made her laugh the hardest, but _Maker_ did he want to know. 

The longer he thought about her, the more he realized that he did know.  He knew she tried to be nice to others, and he knew she liked to drink margaritas and laugh with Dorian.  He knew she’d save him from Sera’s pranks and encourage Iron Bull’s raunchy questions, and he knew that she stood up for her friends. 

He knew she loved cranberry chocolate chip cookies and doing yoga in the backyard, and there was nothing he wanted more in that moment than to learn everything else he could about this remarkable woman across from him. 

When he finally zoned back in, Talia was staring right back at him.  Gone was the haunted, walled-in look of a few moments before, and in its place was warmth and kindness and an invitation to be part of something he hadn’t once thought would be his to grasp. 

He couldn’t walk over there and kiss her.  He couldn’t. Everything in him was screaming at him to go to her and pull her into his arms, letting his actions dictate once and for all the kind of man he wanted to be with her.  But he couldn’t.  He couldn’t be that man, not when he didn’t know if she wanted him too, not when there was too much hanging between them, not when she’d only just agreed to trust him again. 

But _Maker_ , how he wanted to. 

            When he looked up again, Talia was beside him.  “Come with me,” she said softly so she didn’t interrupt Varric.  Cullen was privately stunned the dwarf was still talking – and that Dorian and Blackwall were still paying attention – but he didn’t have time to say anything before Talia had tugged him down the hall after her. 

            She stopped just around the corner toward the bathrooms, the same spot where they had almost kissed the week before.  Cullen hesitated to get too close to her, his stomach churning as he considered what she might want, and she turned around so fast, he ran into her. 

            “Sorry,” he mumbled, hands coming up to catch her, but she used the contact to press herself closer, the blanket slipping from around her shoulders. 

            “Thank you for standing up for me,” she murmured, her face so close that he could see where her eyeliner had started to smudge.  “I’ve never, uh, had someone do something… like that.”  Her hands trailed over his arms and up his chest, and he instinctively pulled her closer. 

            “You’re welcome,” he said, his voice shaking.  Shame over hurting her fought with the intense desire to never let her go, and he tried to keep himself in check.  “I… of course.  Anything, for you.”  She smiled as he spoke.    

            “Would it be all right,” she began, her breath ghosting across his skin.  “If I … said thank you?”  He watched the color rise in her cheeks and faintly wondered if she were embarrassed or excited or some fluttering combination like the feeling that lingered in his chest. 

            “I’d like that, I think," he replied, his voice so low even he barely heard it.  In his arms, Talia shifted to push herself up on her toes, her eyes flicking over his shoulder as she moved. 

            She froze.  Tension unlike the delicious sparks between them sprang to life under Cullen's hands.  "…Are you okay?" He asked cautiously when she didn't move. 

            With a shake, Talia came back to him.  "I'm sorry, I just…"  She shook her head again as if trying to clear some image away before looking up at him.  "And I should be asking if you're okay.  You know, after using your Templar powers?"  Her arms were still around him, her fingertips playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, but her demeanor had changed -- gone was the flirtation from a moment ago, and instead stood the woman who had hugged him after finding out about the lyrium. 

            He certainly didn't mind that Talia, so caring and concerned, but her body language no longer screamed at him to kiss her.  Disappointment coursed through him.  “I’m fine,” he said, knowing it was colder than he wanted but unable to stop it.  “I assume you are as well?”  She nodded, one fingertip tracing along his forearm as she slipped out of his arms.

            "Cullen, I'm sorry," she began.  "I just… I'm trying to… I'm sorry."  She sighed. 

            "It's fine," he said, even though it wasn't.  He had no idea what else to say.  Was she apologizing for not kissing him?  For whatever had stopped her?  Maker, she wasn't apologizing to say she couldn't be with him, was she? 

            Cullen opened his mouth to ask, consequences aside, but before he could get the stammered words out, Cassandra, Dorian, and Iron Bull came crashing out of the living room.  Their voices were raised, arguing over drinks and who was more irritated and a million other things that made Cullen want to strangle each and every one of them. 

            He was surprised by the hurt that went through him when Talia stepped away from him.  “Can we continue this conversation another time?”  She asked as the trio stepped into view.  Her eyes crawled over the walls, the floor, anywhere except Cullen’s, and he closed his eyes for a brief moment. 

            “Yes, of course,” he answered automatically.  Her fingers caught his for a split second before she pulled away entirely. 

            Cullen stared after her for a moment, alone and confused, before he slumped against the wall, gently banging his head over and over.  He'd been right before -- he didn't know her.  What in Thedas had convinced him that a relationship with anyone on this Maker-forsaken show was a good idea?  Certainly, he couldn’t help who he was attracted to – but why did he have to be the kind of person who made someone like her skittish? 

            Then he saw the camera. 

            It was tucked away near the door to the living room, its lens catching the light as a tiny red indicator blinked.  And it could see everything in this hallway. 

            Cullen spun, sure he would find another camera behind him where Talia would have noticed it. 

            There it sat, its red light blinking away cheerfully. 

            He stared at it for a long moment, his brow furrowed.  That was obviously what had sent Talia scrambling.  She'd noticed it before in the library after he'd revealed his addiction to her, and no doubt she still worried about it.  After all, her entire family -- his entire family too -- could see them through it, and perhaps she didn't want to share a kiss with everyone watching. 

            Of course that also meant that everyone watching could see Cullen get interrupted or rejected time and again, and he let out a groan, slumping against the wall again as he did. 

            Some viewer somewhere had to be laughing their ass off at his expense.    

            Just as he was convincing himself to give up, that she didn't want to be seen on camera with him and he didn’t deserve that warm feeling in his chest when she got close anyway, Talia appeared around the corner again.  “Cullen, you coming?”  She asked. 

            A moment later, Cassandra stuck her head around the corner too.  “I need a drink, Cullen, hurry up!” She vanished again, presumably headed for whatever alcohol she could find. 

            He studied them for a second.  “I … didn’t know I was invited,” he replied lamely. 

            “Of course you are, daft man,” shouted Dorian from around the corner, and Talia smiled at him, her hand extended.  Everything else vanished.

            “Come with us, Cullen,” she said, gesturing for him to join them.  “Please.” 

            A smirk slid across his face as he pushed off from the wall.  “How could I resist?” 

            She smiled back.  “That’s what I was counting on.”  Her hand was still extended, and without hesitation, Cullen reached for her.  A moment that felt like an eternity passed before she took his hand, squeezing his fingers just enough so he knew she wanted to be there. 

            Cullen smiled the rest of the evening, despite several snide comments from Dorian and teasing from Iron Bull. 

            Nothing else mattered when she took his hand.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for reading!!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a day early, but I have a surprise tomorrow! So enjoy, and keep an eye out!

_Week 5: Confessionals_

Blackwall: The Old Guy

            _Blackwall’s hair and beard have been trimmed and combed in preparation for this confessional, and the man himself sets calmly in the booth.  His arms are crossed in front of him as he waits, a frown hidden below his mustache._

            I cannot believe the drama of this place.  I agreed to be on here because it was supposed to be a vacation, not a gathering of damn fools and their problems.  _(Someone asks a muffled question, and he snorts derisively.)_ Friends? I don’t want to make friends.  The friends I have are sufficient.  _(Off-camera, there’s another muffled question.)_   I stood up for Vivienne because it’s the right thing to do.  And I stopped Sera because she needs someone to help her.  Like a father.  I’m not interested in caring about people. _(There’s a beat, and his eyes widen.)_   Oh Maker, I did make friends.  Cullen’s a good man, and I can tolerate Talia more than most women her age.  Dorian, though.  Him I do not like.  _(He considers this revelation for a moment before his frown deepens.)_ I think I may need to call someone the wrong name. 

 

Cassandra: The Hard Ass

            _Cassandra sits ramrod straight, her dark eyes serious and a carefully neutral expression on her face.  Her hands are folded in her lap, but one knee is jiggling, giving away the nerves hiding under her calm exterior._

I cannot believe I had to lecture my housemates like children.  That would never be allowed in a police barracks, let alone a precinct.  And the fight between Dorian and Vivienne… ugh.  _(She rolls her eyes.)_   I knew they disliked each other, but I did not expect it to erupt over Talia and Cullen.  Nor did I expect that Cullen would react… the way he did.  I am glad no one was hurt.  _(One hand comes up to rub across her forehead briefly.)_ I need to talk to Cullen about that.  Perhaps… No, it is not my place to discuss his business.  But I am worried about him.  _(Someone asks a muffled question from off-camera, and a smile threatens across Cassandra’s face.)_ I am happy for him, yes.  Though I do not believe anything concrete has passed between them, but he deserves something good in his life.  ( _There’s a pause while someone asks another question, and Cassandra scoffs.)_ Me? No, I have no attachment in the house beyond friendship.  Especially not with the dwarf.  And even if I did… well.  _(She shrugs.)_

Talia: The ‘Normal’ One

_Talia twists her fingers in her lap as she sits in the booth, her hair up in a ponytail and her lips pursed.  When she finally speaks, she’s going a little too fast, as if she’s trying to put her thoughts together out loud._

You know, I felt so confident after the house meeting.  I’d been so messed up with all that shit about Cullen, but he came to hang out with me, and then he actually stood up for me, and that’s never really happened before, so when I dragged him down the hall, _(she blushes here, clearly fighting a smile)_ I was planning on kissing him.  I wanted to kiss him.  But the cameras… _(For the first time, she hesitates, and the smile falters.)_   I don’t know, since then I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him, but it’s not all positive.  There’s still all that shit from the Tale, and I keep wondering what my brother would say.  It's silly, I know, but… _(Her head drops briefly into her hand, and she shakes it a little.)_ I’ve never been the type to worry so much about who I date, but there’s something about him… and so much he doesn’t know about me.  Oh Holy Andraste, the things he doesn’t know about me… _(Her eyes go wide as she considers this before she visibly collects herself.)_ Not the point.  Anyway. Um.  I’m getting along with most everyone else in the house after the meeting.  Poor Dorian – he’s been cleaning the pool without magic, and sure it’s gross, but Maker is it funny!  _(This seems to encourage her, and her earlier angst eases.)_ I should feel sympathy, but it’s hard with that showercap he keeps wearing!

 

Varric: The Writer

            _Varric clears his throat loudly, and the camera angle shifts down, revealing the dwarf sitting with his arms crossed and a peeved look on his face.  “Really?” He asks, before the technician can apologize for the discriminatory angle._

You know, I didn’t want to be a dick about my show.  I really didn’t.  I’m okay with everyone knowing now, I guess, but it’s not going the way I planned.  Shit, it’s kind of a mess, actually.  _(He gives a wry laugh.)_   How was I supposed to know the mages would start a fight in the living room? And Hawke and I… well. _(He considers for a moment.)_ We had a royal fuck up there in Val Royeaux.  I mean, it’s a great story and all, but I wasn’t trying to piss Leliana off.  That shit’s dangerous.  And throwing Curly under the bus was never my intent.  _(With a shake of his head, he tries to laugh it off.)_   Ah, well. At least this will all make a great tell-all book when we’re done, right?

 

Cullen: The Workaholic

_Cullen is jittery as he talks, his knees bouncing seemingly beyond his control.  His hair isn’t combed very well, an errant curl sticking up here and there.  He sits a little slumped, which is unusual, and there’s a wild look lingering in his eyes under the dark purple shadows._

I’m not sure… wait, what? Oh. No, I’m fine.  Actually, that’s not true, but it’s nothing anyone can help.  I’m just… I feel fuzzy today, like there’s fog over everything, and I can’t… _(With obvious effort, he stops his bouncing and straightens up, and his words start to come a little more smoothly.)_ I should not have lost control that day.  I could have hurt someone, and I’m very lucky that I didn’t.  I apologized to Dorian later, and he just laughed it off, but I still feel guilty.  And Vivienne… well, I have little to say that is nice, so I’ll keep quiet.  It was a bad day.  I mean, a uh, good one, too, in some ways, and… _(He trails off, a hint of a smirk on his lips.)_ It wasn’t all bad.  Talia is… But the cameras bother her, and I keep… _(He sighs, but the smirk stays.)_ I wish I could have kissed her.  Even though she deserves someone better than me, I still wish I had kissed her. 

 

Vivienne: The Prissy One

            _Vivienne calmly inspects her nails as her confessional begins.  She’s calm and composed, a far cry from the frustrated, pissed-off woman who stormed out of the living room a few days before, and she sounds very detached as she finally speaks._

I won’t apologize for what I said, so don’t ask.  It’s true, after all, and they need to know that the rest of us are sick of their lording their happiness over us.  _(Her eyes flick to the camera for a moment, and the look in them is surprisingly vulnerable, gone in a flash before the viewer can be sure they saw it.)_ But I did act out of anger, and I suppose I should have held my temper.  Blackwall tells me that Talia stood up for me after Cassandra was so insufferably rude, so perhaps she’s not a total loss.  Cullen… _(She takes a deep breath, and for just a moment, the mask slips.)_  Sometimes he reminds me of my dear Bastien when we first met.  _(She gives herself a shake.)_ But there’s no place for sentimentality here, darling, not with Dorian behaving so atrociously and Varric pulling strings behind the curtain.  I shall endure, as I always have, and perhaps… perhaps I will try harder not to alienate my housemates, if they shall grant me the same courtesy. 

 

\---

     The first days of week 5 in Skyhold found Talia far more exhausted than any others thus far. 

     The week before had been chaos, her fight with Cullen draining and the tension in the house still simmering after Cassandra laid down the law over the house’s chores.  Poolside with Dorian offered little sanctuary, as the mage continued to glower in Vivienne’s general direction whether she was physically present or not, and Cassandra sent scathing glares at Sera if she even so much as ventured toward the kitchen, so there was no peace to be found in chocolate cranberry cookies either. 

     Despite his standing up for her a few days before and the decidedly almost-kiss that night, Talia still wasn’t sure how she felt about Cullen. 

     That wasn’t quite true – she found him quite attractive, and her heart fluttered when he offered her that crooked smile of his, but she was having trouble making up her mind to truly let herself be open with him.  It asked more trust of her, more understanding, than perhaps any other experience in her life, and she was not sure she was up to the task.  For a moment, when she'd pulled him away from the others under the suspiciously thin guise of 'saying thank you,' she thought she knew what she wanted.  But the cameras had shaken her.  If she wasn't ready to be with him in front of others, even just random strangers, could she really be ready to open herself up to a relationship? 

     She tried to push this thought away as she headed to her usual yoga spot.  Her workouts still demanded her attention, offering the chance to clear her head that nothing else provided.  The grounds around Skyhold had blossomed as summer heated up, and the open fields that rolled toward the well-cultivated trees continued to offer her more peace than any other place. Talia breathed deep as she stretched her arms overhead, feeling the sunshine kissing her skin as the edges of her stress started to melt away. 

A shadow fell across her as she bent to touch her toes, and she shot up. 

Cullen stood nearby, a sheepish expression on his face.  “Sorry to have startled you,” he said, a tinge of pink spreading over his cheeks. 

“It’s okay,” she replied automatically, even though she wasn’t sure if it really was. 

“I… thought I might join you, if that’s all right…”  He didn’t look like he thought it was, the fingers of one hand tapping his thumb in quick succession.  A ratty yoga mat was rolled up under the other arm. 

“Um… sure, I guess,” she answered without much thought, but Cullen backtracked immediately. 

“Oh I mean… I don’t, um… have to.”  He rubbed the back of his neck. 

“No, it’s fine,” she said quickly.  “Join me.  It’s nice out here.” 

Cullen still hesitated.  “You don’t seem sure,” he observed. 

Talia studied him.  Deep shadows hung under those amber eyes, shadows she didn't like.  His skin was drawn, haggard like he'd spent too much time staring at the ceiling instead of sleeping.  He had the look of a man who needed someone to care about him, and with a shock that went through her body like lightning, Talia realized she wanted that someone to be her.  The depth of her feelings for him welled up inside her. 

Closing her eyes, she reveled in that feeling for a moment.  It had been so long since she'd wanted to care for someone that she almost didn't remember it.  The desire to spend time with him pulled on her senses, overwhelming her trepidation about the cameras.  She wanted to touch him, kiss him, be with him, and whatever hesitations she'd had were dwindling.   

She opened her eyes. 

Cullen was staring at her, a mix of confusion and fear on his face. 

_Shit_.  She'd hesitated too long, and he had taken it for her rejection.  Reaching out, she rested her hand on his forearm and ran it along his skin.  "Hey," she said softly.  "Stay with me.  You look like you need some time to relax."  The fear drained slowly from his face, replaced by cautious optimism. 

"Are you sure?"  He asked as he fidgeted with his mat. 

"Absolutely."  He deserved her understanding, at the very least, and the cameras could go to hell. "Sorry I wasn't acting like it.  I’m just not the type to work out with other people, but for you, I’ll make an exception.”  She winked. 

He blushed, as expected. 

They hesitated together for a moment, both staring out over the lush fields beyond Talia’s usual yoga spot. 

“Well, let’s get started—”

“What should I do with—” Both stopped mid-sentence, tension still hovering between them. 

“How about this,” Talia said, reaching for the mat under his arm.  Cullen surrendered it without question.  “I’ll set this up, and you make sure you’re comfortable in your bare feet.” 

“Okay.”  He studied his shoes for a long minute before kicking them off and digging his toes into the grass.  Talia watched, amused, until he glanced up and blushed.  “Feels nice,” he said. 

“I know.”  She waved him over, her eyes tracking over his form as he moved.  “You’re dressed like you’re going running,” she observed. 

He glanced over his own clothes.  “No good?  I’ve never done this before.” 

“No, it’s fine, it’s just…”  Talia paused, blushing, and Cullen looked at her quizzically.  “Sometimes athletic shorts aren’t as comfortable in, um…”  His confused expression grew, and she swallowed, resolving to get over her hesitation around him.  “I’ve always found that they bunch in my crotch and make stretching hard, but that’s just me.  Also I tend to flash people when I wear them since they fall down my legs when I’m doing an inverted move.” 

Cullen pondered this for a moment, opening his mouth to speak once before he bit back a laugh, blushing up to his ears. 

Talia smirked.  He’d clearly pictured it.  “Don’t you have, like, some workout shorts or something for under that?”

Cullen’s blushing did not lessen.  “… yes, but they are obscenely short.  I’d prefer not to blind the public with my pasty thighs.” 

It was Talia’s turn to blush.  “I wouldn’t mind.”  She gave him a shy smile, and he edged closer even as he flushed. 

            They avoided each other’s eyes as he followed her lead, setting their legs apart and working through some basic stretches.  Cullen wasn't very flexible – his movements were choppy, and he couldn't get very low in the stretches, but he followed her diligently, bending through toe touches and mountain pose with only a little wobbling. 

            “I usually do a series of sun salutations to get started,” Talia explained when they were ready, and he nodded. 

            “I’ll just follow you.”  They bent over before stepping into a plank, and Talia could almost hear Cullen smile. 

            “This is like a push-up, I got this,” he mumbled.  She dropped onto the mat, pushing her chest up into upward dog pose.  When Cullen grunted, she glanced his way.  He was still doing push-ups, and she couldn’t help her chuckle. 

            “Try to keep up, Rutherford,” she teased, and he looked up. 

            “Oh.” He managed to follow her a little bit, though he arched his back too much, his neck out of alignment.  When she lifted into a downward-facing dog pose beside him, he just stared.  “I don’t think I can do that.” 

            “Sure you can,” she said, surprised by her own cheerfulness.  He looked doubtful but tried anyway, pointing his ass at the sky as he held himself up. 

            “Um…” he began, wobbling, and Talia giggled.  She brought a leg forward and stood, moving beside him. 

            “… May I…” She touched his shoulder hesitantly, and he twisted his neck to look up at her.

            “Yes please.”  Placing her hand on his shoulder, she smiled to herself.  He was warm through his shirt, the fresh smell of grass and sunshine blending with whatever deodorant he used, and it was intoxicating.  When she didn’t move after a moment, he cleared his throat.  “Um… this really isn’t comfortable…” 

            “Right.”  She gave herself a shake.  “So, bend your knees toward the mat a little.  Good.  Now,” she moved her hand, placing it between his shoulder blades.  “Try to roll your shoulders down, so the blades are against your back.”  His muscles moved under her hand, and she felt his shoulders slide into place.  “Now straighten your arms.”  She gently pushed as he did, and the line of his back straightened.  “Good.” 

            “That’s… better, actually,” he said, sounding surprised. 

            “You’re in the right pose now,” Talia said.  She stepped away, intending to take up her own pose, but her hand moved of its own accord, tracing lines down his spine, and Cullen shivered. 

            “Sorry,” she whispered.  He didn’t reply, but if she squinted, she could see the hint of a smile play across his face. 

            They moved through two more salutations before Talia deemed him ready to try some warrior poses.  Carefully she led him through another downward dog and asked him to swing one leg up.  He followed, his athletic shorts falling down his leg just as she'd predicted, and even though he didn't lose his form, he blushed. 

            "Told you," he muttered, and she laughed. 

            "And I told you I didn't mind," she replied, even though she couldn't see a thing from her own pose.  "Swing your leg through into a lunge," she prompted.  He followed again, positioning his feet as she spoke.  Talia was pleasantly surprised by his abilities -- the man was ripped, no doubt about that, and while that seemed to hinder his flexibility, he was more than happy to push himself into the moves. 

            With no small amount of cursing, of course.  "Void take it.  What are you doing with your hip, exactly?"  He asked as she rolled into warrior one.  She'd rotated one hip forward so they were aligned, her back leg still extended straight. 

            She glanced at him.  "Yoga," she replied cheekily, and he gave her a dirty look.  "Here, let me help again," she laughed.  Cullen nodded. 

            Talia stepped out of her pose and again surveyed his form.  His lunge was strong, quads flexed to hold him in position, but his hips were twisted and that was likely hurting his knee.  "Here."  She moved so she was just behind him and placed her hands on his hips, thumbs pressing into the waistband of his shorts.  "Move with my hands," she prompted, turning gently.  He rotated with the movement, sinking another inch into the pose as his hips settled into the right place. 

            "Thank you," he said softly. 

            "Of course," Talia replied and stepped back, resisting the urge to slid her hands around his body, to hug him and feel the ripples of muscle across his chest beneath her hands.  She avoided his gaze as she swung herself through a salutation into position, and they kept going. 

            Warrior one, two and triangle pose went well, though they paused periodically so Talia could help Cullen adjust his form.  He sweated through his shirt by the time they finished the set, muttering curses under his breath as he tried to position himself.  Talia snuck glances at him as they worked, suppressing the smirk that threatened to break through at his struggles.  She'd been doing yoga since she was a teen – she was lower in her lunges, her arms higher and straighter in each pose, but Cullen was trying hard, and she couldn't fault him for that. 

            She could, in fact, find that she was far more attracted to him as she watched him struggle through something just to spend time with her.  It made her hesitation to get close to him easier to overcome, and each time she brushed fingers over his form to help him, each time she felt him tremble the slightest bit under her touch, she found she wanted to kiss him more. 

            She felt Cullen’s eyes on her as she moved, adjusting her spine so her back was straight as she dropped her hand to rest on the ground for a side angle pose.  “I’m pretty sure that’s not possible,” he informed her, and she laughed. 

            “Another set of salutations then.”  She flowed through poses until she was standing straight beside him.  He watched her move, his already red face darkening further.

“Ready?”  

            “Nope,” he said, but straightened gamely anyway.  By the time they were back in crescent pose, Talia could see Cullen’s legs shaking, and she hesitated on their next pose.  This was the part of her workout when she did balance poses, starting with warrior three, but she was certain he wasn’t going to like it. 

            “I usually do balance next,” she began, and though he grimaced, he also nodded. 

            “I’ll follow.”  Talia nodded, bending her knee slightly to push off.  Her arms extended as she leaned forward, counterbalanced by her back leg as she settled into the pose.  Beside her, Cullen attempted the same.  For a moment, he balanced surprisingly well, his form graceless but fairly accurate.  Then his knee locked, and he toppled. 

            Talia squealed as his weight hit her, her own pose crumpling.  They landed in a sweaty heap on the grass, Cullen trying not to crush her and Talia trying not to be crushed.  Before either realized, they were one on top of the other, Talia under Cullen with her legs twisted.  She’d grabbed his shoulder as they fell, and now that grip held him flush against her, heavy and warm. 

            Both froze. 

            Instead of a mad scramble to get off her, Cullen shifted just barely, and his hand brushed her cheek.  Talia couldn’t help it; she shivered.   

            He must have felt it, for he leaned closer, hesitating when their eyes met.  Quickly he pushed himself off and extended a hand to her to help her up, his face red. 

            “Sorry,” he muttered.  He might have looked it, but when she took his hand, he pulled hard, bringing her crashing against him.  She caught herself with a hand on his chest, his other arm around her waist for balance.  A rush of heat washed over her, the tell-tale warmth of blushing coupled with another, more pressing heat suddenly throbbing between her legs. 

            _Maker_ , but she wanted to kiss him. 

            “Talia, I…”  He began, his fingers flexing against her back.  Their eyes met, and the corner of Cullen’s mouth quirked up as he smiled at her.  All those illicit thoughts about what his lips would feel like pressed against hers rushed up in her mind, bringing further heat, and her fingers dug into the material of his shirt to pull him closer. 

            He obliged, stepping in, and his other hand rose, trembling, to cup her jaw. 

            She froze, eyes locked on his shaking hand, and he paused.  In a rush, she remembered everything about him that had made her hesitate, everything she’d learned and that lingering doubt in the back of her mind.  She took a deep breath, one Cullen must have taken as encouragement, as his arm tightened around her.  But Talia resisted, just the tiniest bit, and instantly he let go.   

            “I need to go through my balance poses,” she said quickly before things could get uncomfortable.  “You can join, if you want.”      

            In spite of her obvious deflection, Cullen chuckled.  “I think I would only hurt myself.  But… would you mind if I stayed?” 

            She smiled, genuine and wicked.  “Oh, you’re not getting out of the rest of the workout that easily, Rutherford.” 

            He gave her a smirk that was so heated, it could have set concrete on fire.  “I wouldn’t miss it.”  He settled in the grass just beyond their mats, arms dangling over his knees.  The athletics shorts he wore bunched around his legs, revealing a long expanse of as-advertised pasty thighs.  Talia smirked but didn’t say anything. 

            She tried to ignore his eyes on her as she started to move through this part of her workout.  A wrong move here would send her crashing to the ground, and even though she could easily recover the pose, it would be much harder to recover her dignity if she landed on her ass.  Thus her movements were careful as she moved from warrior three into a half-moon pose, one hand on the ground for balance.  Her movements were measured as she transitioned into a twisting half moon and a standing split, and by the time she’d worked into a full dancer pose, she’d almost forgotten Cullen was there.

            Even though it wasn’t going to be pretty, her handstand series was the last thing Talia needed to do before she finished the workout.  She’d only started learning it a few days before, so it was still rough, but it had to be done if she wanted to keep improving. 

            Thus, she bent over, gradually transitioning into a headstand with her arms on the ground.  Once that was stable, her legs straight overhead, she pushed up into a forearm stand. 

            This was where she normally had trouble.  The pose was relatively easy for her; she’d practiced it for years as part of a backbend series.  But the move between that and a true handstand was much more difficult, and she spread her legs into a wide split as she pushed onto her hands, hoping to balance herself. 

            Cullen grunted as her foot missed his face by inches, and with a startle, Talia remembered that he was still just behind her, watching.  Surprise coupled with a yelp of an apology, and she lost her balance. 

            “Talia!” Cullen was on his feet in an instant, one strong hand catching her ankle and stabilizing her.  She adjusted herself onto her forearms as he did, and within moments, she’d regained the pose. 

            “Thank you,” she breathed, afraid to say more lest she fall again. 

            “You’re welcome,” he replied, his hand lingering on her skin.   From her upside-down position, Talia stared up at him, her eyes lingering over his broad shoulders and chest where the t-shirt outlined his muscles.  He stared back, though it took her a few moments to notice; his face was near-blank, his eyes wide and dilated, and as soon as her eyes found his, he shook himself slightly and blushed. 

            “You okay?” He asked.  Talia didn’t answer.  Instead, she lifted her leg from his grasp and kicked herself over into a backbend, settling slowly to the ground until she was lying flat on the mat.  When she arched her back to look at him, she caught his eyes flick to her cleavage before coming back to her face, and she smiled. 

            “I’m good.  You ready for the rest of the workout?” 

            He extended a hand to help her up.  “Of course.” 

            Talia stretched as she rose, and the bottom of her tank top must have slid up because Cullen’s eyebrows knit with concern.  “What happened?”  He asked, gesturing toward her abdomen. 

            The scar.  Its gnarled edges must have crept out, and Cullen had noticed.  Of course he’d noticed, the man’s eyes were glued to her, and annoyance bubbled up, replacing the lingering tingle of excitement of being so close to him, of sharing this with him. 

            When she didn’t answer, his amber eyes searched her face.  “That looks like it was bad, once.” 

            “It was,” Talia said without elaborating.  Maybe Cullen would get the message, and she wouldn’t have to explain – she wasn’t willing to shut down their afternoon, not after all the times one of them had walked away from the other, but she also didn’t want to relive one of the worst nights of her life. 

            To her relief, Cullen nodded.  “I know what that’s like.”  His hand rose, but instead of reaching for the back of his neck, he ran three fingers in a long line over his shoulder.

            Talia gave him a small smile, and once they’d blushed and stared at each other for long enough, she stepped over to the mat once again.  “Ready for the last section of the workout?”

            They worked their way through a set of sun salutations and Talia dropped effortlessly into chair pose from there.  Cullen followed, though the long groan he let out when his quads contracted gave away just how much it hurt. 

            “I had no idea yoga was so hard,” he said once he’d managed to mimic her pose. 

            Talia glanced at him.  “I hate to tell you, but you’re doing it wrong.” 

            He looked at his own positioning.  In comparison, his knees were barely bent, his arms up but too far out.  “Um…” 

            “Let me,” she said, stepping up from her own pose.  “Tuck your shoulder blades, and that will lift your arms higher.”  She touched his back gently as she spoke, feeling his muscles move beneath his shirt once again. “You also need to sit lower, but I’m not going to poke you there,” she added, turning red. 

            “Huh?”  He glanced at himself again, and Talia tried not to giggle.

            “Drop your butt another two inches,” she prompted, gesturing. 

            “Oh,” he said, and he blushed, dropping further into the pose as he did.  He grunted.  “This is so much worse.” 

            “You get used to it,” Talia replied, stepping away from his side and back into the position.  They went through two repetitions before doing a plank series that made Cullen much happier.  The man wasn’t flexible, but Maker, could he do push-ups. 

            Talia tried not to stare, and when she couldn’t help it, she tried not to drool. 

            She led them through a series of languid stretches once they’d finished, and by the time Cullen collapsed to the mat beside her, it had been almost two hours since they started.  Though her descent was less a collapse than Cullen’s, Talia nonetheless settled herself down as well. 

            “You did a good job for a first timer,” she said eventually, and beside her, Cullen huffed a laugh. 

            “I clearly didn’t know what I was getting into.”  He shifted, his hand brushing her leg.  “Thank you for showing me.” 

            “Glad to,” she replied.  His hand hadn’t strayed far, just enough space between his fingers and her leggings for propriety’s sake, and on impulse she looped her pinkie finger through his. 

            For a second, he didn’t respond, and Talia worried that she’d overstepped somehow.  But then he wrapped his finger around hers, the tip brushing her palm, and she couldn’t help her smile.  They lay next to each other for a while, talking about nothing just so they could be near each other. 

            After a time, silence fell between them, comfortable and calm. 

            "We should spend more time together," Cullen suggested eventually, catching her other fingers as he spoke. 

            Talia squeezed his hand and found that her answer was entirely honest.  "I would like that."  Whatever hesitations had held her back before had finally melted away. 

            She could hear Cullen's smile.  "Me too." 

            "You said that," she teased, and he must have blushed, for his opposite hand rose to rub his neck. 

            "Yes, well… Maybe chess though, not yoga." 

            "You baby," she laughed, rolling a little so her shoulder crashed into his.  Cullen elbowed her back playfully, and the smile that was threatening broke over Talia’s features, wide and enthusiastic.  In any other situation, she might have blushed or tried to hide it, but lying here in the sunshine, she couldn't bear to stifle just how much she enjoyed having this man beside her.

            "That was pretty amazing, what you did," he told her, glancing over.  "Even before you fell."  He squeezed her hand to emphasize the tease. 

            "Hey! That fall was your fault.  And besides, it's just work, nothing that impressive."  She tried to shrug it off, but he rolled over to stare at her, his hand shifting as he did so their fingers were truly intertwined. 

             “It is, though.  In a million years, I don’t think…”  Their eyes met, and he hesitated, gaze dropping as Talia unconsciously licked her lips.  “…I could ever…”  He swallowed and leaned over as he continued, ever closer to her.  “… do what you do…” 

            Talia willed him closer, her eyes flicking between his gaze and the scar on his lip, wondering if she’d be able to feel it, wondering if he kissed like he talked, carefully but gaining confidence, and just as she’d allowed her eyes to close, the Seeker’s voice rang out over the backyard. 

            “Cullen!”  The man in question jerked back from Talia, his eyes opening.  He didn’t get up, only gave the air where Cassandra’s voice had originated the darkest, most murderous look Talia had ever seen. 

            “What!”  He demanded. 

            “Where are you?” 

            “Right here!” 

            Cassandra’s voice went hard.  “That’s not helpful, Cullen.” 

            “What do you want, Cass?” 

            "What in Thedas are you doing? Come up here!” 

            He hesitated.  “I’m busy,” he said eventually.  Talia tore her eyes from his face and tried to pull her hand from his grasp.  Was he trying to hide spending time with her?  Cullen glanced down as she moved, the hurt on his face matching hers.  Giving his head a small shake, he lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss against her fingertips. 

            "Stay with me," he whispered.  The pleading in his eyes almost broke her heart.  Nodding, she pulled their hands toward her to kiss his fingers in turn. 

            As it had before, Cassandra's voice interrupted the moment.  "Busy with what, Cullen?"

 “I’m with Talia… doing yoga."  He sighed and squeezed her hand as she pretended to hit her head repeatedly on the ground.  "Is this important, Cassandra?” 

            Talia heard the Seeker hesitate.  “Unfortunately, yes.  Dorian and Vivienne got in a fight.  I need you to help me with them.  Talia too, actually.” 

            Cullen’s head dropped to the mat beside Talia’s shoulder briefly before lifting.  “We’ll be right there,” he said, defeated.  Cassandra grunted and went silent, but Talia knew she was still just out of sight, waiting. 

            Instead of moving, Cullen reached out to cup Talia’s jaw in his hand.  “I’m sorry,” he said softly, his amber eyes trained on hers.  “You deserve so much better than this.”  Talia fought the urge to push up and kiss him herself. 

            “Maybe we can…” 

            Hope sparked through his eyes.  “If you want, yes.” 

            “I’d like that.”  They smiled at each other for a moment, and then Cassandra’s voice interrupted again. 

            “Cullen, come on!” 

            Talia squeezed his hand, and he pushed himself up.  “I’m coming, I’m coming,” he grumbled, giving her a last longing look before he moved toward the Seeker.  “You know you’re a real pain, right?” 

            Talia heard Cassandra hesitate again.  “… I interrupted, didn’t I?” 

            “I hate you right now,” Cullen said, their voices fading, and Talia threw herself backward on the mat with a sigh. 

            _Next time._   Next time they would not be interrupted, Talia would make sure of it, or Maker help whoever got in her way. 

             

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cullen and Talia are doing a very rough version of the p90x yoga work out, if anyone's interested :) 
> 
> Thanks for reading!!


	11. Chapter 11

No matter how hard Cullen tried to make it happen in the next week, he could never find Talia alone.  Poolside with Dorian, editing work in the library with Varric, even cooking with Sera: she was always busy doing something. 

            The chance to work out with her felt like a gift looking back, and Cullen tried as hard as he could to replicate it.  It didn’t matter; he never got all the way across that lawn before someone needed him – Blackwall asking for a spotter on the weight bench, Cassandra to discuss his withdrawal symptoms, once even Dorian to lecture him in what felt strangely like a “Don’t hurt my sister” kind of conversation. 

            By the time week 5’s major event, a scavenger hunt, rolled around, Cullen felt like he hadn’t seen Talia in days.  

            He ran with Cassandra that morning, read for most of the time until lunch, and worked out hard all afternoon, each time trying to unload the increasing weight of his anxiety.  Each day without talking to her made him less and less sure of what she wanted, less and less sure that she wanted _him_.  He knew his fruitless search for her the past days bordered on stalker behavior, but he couldn’t help it. 

            It had been years since he wanted anyone in his life, and now that he finally did, he was impatient for it to start. 

            With this desire to find Talia still swirling in his stomach, Cullen took a leisurely shower to try to calm his nerves.  It didn’t work, but he did manage to make himself late for the start of the scavenger hunt, and by the time he threw on a t-shirt and jeans to head outside, everyone else was already waiting. 

            Not quietly either – Cullen could hear voices shouting already, and presumably, the hunt hadn’t even started yet.  Varric’s raised voice echoed all the way back to the house as he tried to maintain order, but it didn’t seem to be working. 

            Four tables came into view just beyond Skyhold’s pool, a sheet of pink paper printed with a list of clues resting on top.  Each table was labeled with two names, and Cullen was forced to guess that they weren’t the partnerships that anyone wanted, if the shouting were any indication.  As he stepped up to the tables, Cassandra waved him over. 

            “We aren’t partners,” she announced.  He started to ask, but the dark look she sent Dorian said it all. 

            “Sorry to hear that,” he replied instead.  “Any idea who I’m set up with?”  For a second, his pulse skyrocketed with the potential that he’d been paired up with Talia. 

            “Yes,” Cassandra said, nodding at someone over his shoulder.  “And you aren’t going to like it.” 

            Cullen turned – Vivienne was making her way through the shouting toward him, her own expression carefully schooled into one of neutrality with just a touch of condescension.  “We are partners, darling,” she drawled over the sound of Iron Bull and Sera arguing.  “Try not to look so disappointed.” 

            “I’m sure we can tolerate each other, Vivienne,” Cullen replied, trying his best to appear neutral.   There was little point in being annoyed. 

            The mage stood silently by as he surveyed the others.  Iron Bull had been partnered up with Sera, a dangerous combination if you asked him as they were arguing over something to be used in the bedroom.  _Maker's breath._  Talia and Blackwall stood patiently nearby as Varric tried to wrangle everyone together so they could get started. 

            As the housemates finally settled and Varric started explaining the rules, Cullen glanced around.  The pairs in the hunt had obviously been chosen to spread discontent; Cassandra and Dorian shared identical pissed-off stances, arms crossed and giving each other dirty looks when they thought no one was watching.  Iron Bull kept shooting glances of either anger or lust at Dorian, Cullen wasn’t sure which, but either way, it didn’t bode well for Sera, who was trying her hardest to climb onto Bull’s shoulders without any help from the big qunari.  Talia and Blackwall were the only ones who looked remotely fine, though neither looked particularly excited about their partnership. 

            Cullen suppressed a sigh as he realized that Vivienne would either spend their afternoon silent, or lecturing him on what she saw as the extremely lax rules surrounding the Circles.  It was difficult to imagine a worse afternoon. 

            The scavenger hunt itself was set to be quite the challenge, even if Vivienne did decide to participate.  Partners could not be swapped, and items could be obtained from indoors or outside, but had to be small enough to carry.  Once an item was used, no one else was allowed to grab it.    The tables before them were set aside for whatever they found to fulfill the clue; as long as an item fit on the table, it could be used.  Bedrooms were off-limits without permission from their occupants. 

            There were 15 clues on the list, all vague enough to be satisfied with a little creative effort.  If a partnership obtained all their objects first, they earned a bonus phone call plus an extra $50 to spend on the show’s next trip into Val Royeaux.  Fulfill the 3 bonus clues as well, and you earned an afternoon without cameras. 

            That perked everyone right up. 

            A babble of conversation broke out, including Vivienne asking if she could invite a guest should she and Cullen win, and Dorian and Iron Bull exchanging lewd gestures. 

            “Why don’t we just play and see?” Varric suggested, sidestepping the issue.  Looking over the list, Cullen couldn’t help but agree – where were they going to find something to build a house? Or something for Satinalia? And how many things for use in the bedroom only could possibly be in the house? On second thought, maybe he didn't want an answer to that.  

            He glanced at his partner.  Maybe Vivienne had some ideas. 

            Unfortunately, the mage looked just as blank as he felt. 

\---   
            Talia had been lost in her thoughts, thinking of Cullen demanding that she be his partner for this game, walking over to kiss her senseless in front of everyone, perhaps sweeping her off her feet and carrying her back to his room, and thus missed whatever Varric said that inspired such uproar from her housemates. 

            Then Sera elbowed her.  “We could do a lot of damage, eh Tali?”

            "Huh? How?" 

            Sera gave her a look.  "In a day without cameras!" 

            A huge smile spread across Talia's face.  "Hell yeah we could!"  The glee on her face was easy to mistake for enthusiasm for Sera's pranks, but Talia's thoughts had immediately sprinted back to Cullen.  The flood of inappropriate thoughts she'd been holding at bay rushed over her, heat rippling through her nerves as she considered what his skin probably felt like under that t-shirt or how that scar would feel as he kissed his way down her throat or --

            Blackwall cleared his throat abruptly, and Talia jerked back to reality.  Sera was giving her a look that clearly said she knew what trouble Talia could get up to, and even the gruff older man looked amused. 

            She blushed.  She could imagine Cullen naked anytime; right now, they had a game to play. 

            Varric turned them loose a few minutes later after a last reminder not to switch partners.  The warning made sense – Cassandra was subtly inching away from Dorian, and Vivienne looked positively scandalized over her partnership with Cullen if you knew how to read through the mask of nobility.  But Talia was fine with her partner; Blackwall was friendly enough under the beard, and despite his quick denouncement of scavenger hunts, he already had several ideas for where to obtain their items. 

            In fact, moments after Varric had stopped talking, Blackwall turned to her.  “We have no choice but to methodically solve this puzzle.  If we split up the list, we can cover more ground.  I can handle these,” he said, pointing several of them out.    His eyes were twinkling already.  

            Talia glanced over the list.  “I have things for cold weather and runs on batteries in my room.  And I might be able to get a few more.” 

            “It’s a start,” Blackwall decided.  “Move!”  She nodded, and they split up, Blackwall jogging off in search of something to build a house with a wide smile hiding under that beard. 

            Talia headed for her room with less enthusiasm.  She really would have preferred a relaxing afternoon to the scavenger hunt, and with a jolt, she realized that she missed hanging out with Cullen.  They hadn’t seen each other in days. 

            With a chuckle, she thought about just how silly that sounded.  She’d gone from wanting no one special in her life for years before the reality show, and now only weeks later, she missed Cullen with the fervency of someone she hadn’t seen in months, not days. 

Adapting to life in Skyhold was so much easier than she’d ever expected.  Seeing him every day, really seeing everyone every day, had resulted in relationships like she’d never had before.   For a moment, she wondered if that was weird; would she even see these people once the show ended?  Would her real-life friends accept her reality show ones?

She felt a twinge when she thought of Cullen.  Would she ever see him again when this was all over?

            The patio door to the house loomed, and she padded down the hall to her bedroom with an uncertain heart.  She had to see him again – to experience so much agony to decide just to be open with someone, and yet have him vanish from her life was unthinkable.  She wanted him in her life, and that included after the show. 

            Hopefully he felt the same.

            She ignored the ache in her chest and glanced around the scattered mess of her side of the room, a stark contrast to Cassandra’s orderly possessions.  Somewhere in here she had a pair of gloves and an e-reader to satisfy some of the clues.  As she bent to search her drawers, something yellow caught her eye – her pajama shorts, the ones with kittens, had yellow and purple flowers on them. Perfect. 

            She plucked the quill-pen combo Varric had given her as a joke out of her journal as she walked past – one of the clues asked for something that started with Q. 

            The hallway was deserted, so she stopped by the kitchen to grab the flour sifter to satisfy ‘something needed to make pastries’ and a wooden spatula that would probably float even if it didn’t belong in the pool.  By the time she met up with Blackwall near their team table, more than half of their clues had been satisfied.   

            Giggling, he set off in search of something that didn't belong where he found it as well as something homemade.  Talia had no doubt he’d be able locate those, so she went to find something that still had the tag on it.

            On her way back to the table, she ran into Iron Bull, who was shouting instructions at Sera as she attempted to pull a string of Satinalia lights off the patio overhang. 

            “Tali, help!” Sera shouting, waving the end of the lights at her.  Talia paused for a moment, wondering if Blackwall was already waiting for her.  Before she could decide, Bull grabbed her hips and boosted her up onto his shoulders.  She let out a shriek, but he only laughed.

            “Get on up there, girl,” he admonished her. 

Talia kicked his shoulder.  “You could have warned me, Bull.” 

“You’re fine.”  He extended his hands so she could find her balance to stand on his shoulders.  “Ready?” 

With a sigh, Talia pulled herself up.  “Ready.  Even if you bullied me into it.” 

“Who’s bullying you into what now?” Blackwall asked, stepping up beside Iron Bull. 

“Tali here’s helping us find something for Satinalia,” Sera announced as she helped Talia step carefully onto the roof.  “She’s good people.” 

Blackwall just shook his head, arms crossed in front of his chest.  “Just don’t hurt her, or that man of hers will come after you.” 

“Cullen won’t hurt me,” Sera answered cheerfully before Talia could answer. 

Iron Bull chuckled.  “He might, little elf, he might.” 

“Nah!”  Talia rolled her eyes and boosted Sera up so the elf could unhook the end of the lights from the roof above them.  The string itself looked dingy, like it’d been left up for far too many seasons, but Sera looked elated when she finally pulled it free.  “We’re gonna win!” She hurled the lights down to Bull before leaping off the roof into his arms. 

Talia waited until the big qunari put his enthusiastic partner down before she asked for help, and he dutifully swung her off the roof. 

“Don’t want you to sic that big guy on me,” he said with that odd one-eyed wink. 

“He’s not my guy, Bull,” she said automatically. 

“Whatever you say,” he replied cheerfully, swapping a look with Sera, who giggled. 

“You all have no respect for privacy,” she accused, giving them a dirty look. 

Sera cackled.  “So long as you two do when you get down to naughty bits, we’re all happy people.” 

"You don't need privacy on my account," Bull said. 

"Ewwwww," Talia grumbled, even though in her heart, she was glad she'd met such friends to carry her through the show. 

Talia and Blackwall set off for their table, leaving Sera and Iron Bull discussing the next step of their plan.  It sounded like they were far in the lead, especially when they also passed Dorian and Cassandra shouting at each other over what, exactly, was appropriate enough for Dorian to supply for clue #3. 

“What’s clue three?” Blackwall muttered to her as they passed, just as Dorian shouted something that sounded like, “And _why_ is a butt plug not okay?” to Cassandra's horror.  Blackwall and Talia both cringed, picking up the pace toward the tables.

"Um…" She checked the sheet. "Something to use in the bedroom." 

Blackwall reached into his back pocket and produced his wallet.  "I got something for that," he said, pulling out a condom. 

"Perfect."  She skimmed over the rest of the list.  "I think we only need #1, #17, and #18, and we're done."  A thought struck her.  "Oh! And I know where we can get something for #18, but I need your help." 

"What's 18?" Blackwall asked as he dutifully followed her. 

"Something up a tree." 

\---

Working with Vivienne was exactly like Cullen expected.  Between deep bouts of condescending silence, Vivienne lectured him on the history of Circle policies in Thedas and the responsibilities of the Templars as a policing force.  Since he had zero interest in discussing either his checkered Templar past or her extremely conservative ideas, Cullen tried to ignore her. 

As a result, they were struggling to find even the most basic of clues for the scavenger hunt.  He had grabbed a his rugby jersey to fulfill "something that has the Ferelden flag on it" as well as a flashlight to fit "something with batteries," and Vivienne had stalked into her room to produce a pair of shoes and a gift from her lover, though she'd refused to elaborate which clues those fulfilled.   Beyond that, they had nothing; Vivienne wouldn't even discuss the clues with him. 

It didn't take a cop to figure out she had not yet forgiven him for his part in the house fight last week. 

 They stood on the patio, Cullen reading through the clues and Vivienne standing nearby with her arms crossed.  Iron Bull and Sera had passed by moments before discussing which action figure would suit clue #13 -- "something with a lion on it" -- and Cullen sighed.  There was no chance they were going to win. 

An idea struck him and he rooted around in his jeans for his coins, lighting on a quarter to fit clue #2.  Vivienne passed him a jacket out of nowhere a moment later, and they headed to the tables to lay out their loot. 

Near the pool, Dorian and Cassandra were arguing over whose clothing fit "something yellow and purple" better, Cassandra's bikini or Dorian's thong. 

That stopped both Vivienne and Cullen in their tracks. 

"You have a bikini?" Cullen asked Cassandra, stunned, just as Vivienne pulled a disgusted face and said, "You own a thong?"  to Dorian.  

The Seeker and the mage exchanged glances before giving them identical offended looks.  "And why would I not?"  They both demanded, hands on hips, and Cullen fought the urge to back away.  If they joined forces, they might be unstoppable. 

"Sorry, Cass, just asking," he muttered, eyes wide, just as Vivienne crossed her arms and gave Dorian an even dirtier look. 

"It's undignified for a man," she said, and luckily Cassandra grabbed Dorian's arm before he could set the other mage on fire. 

Instead, and to everyone's surprise, Dorian gave the mage a saucy wink.  "It makes sex hotter than you can even imagine," he said, punctuating his words with a tiny flare of flame.  "But that's understandable, considering your lordy-love is a thousand years old." 

"That just means he's dignified," Vivienne shot back. 

"Ugh, what a boring way to live," Dorian groaned, rolling his eyes. 

"Maybe for you," she snapped.  Behind Dorian, Cassandra caught Cullen's eye and rolled hers.  Cullen nodded, the corner of his mouth twitching up.  Vivienne and Dorian were far more alike than either wanted to admit. 

"You know, Cullen," Dorian said, turning to him.  Apparently taunting Vivienne had gotten boring.  "We just saw Talia and Blackwall." 

Cullen's heart leapt, but he tried to look nonchalant.  "So?" 

"So… how's that going?"  When Cullen didn't answer, Dorian smirked.  "I see that it's not going at all then. And why not?" 

Cassandra interjected before Cullen could answer.  "Leave him alone, Tevinter!"  She crowded into Dorian's space, but the mage only cocked an eyebrow at her, unimpressed. 

"Excuse me? What business is it of yours if I ask my friend a question about romance?" 

"As if you could offer any useful advice there," she snapped, crossing her arms. 

"More than you and that dwarf you keep making eyes at!" He shot back, turning his attention from Cullen. 

"Maker," he muttered, shaking his head.  Beside him, Vivienne tapped his shoulder. 

"Could we continue, please?"  She asked, giving the two bickering in front of them a significant look.  "It would be a shame to lose to … _them_." 

"Agreed," Cullen said.  They headed to their table, Vivienne glancing behind them all the while.  When Cassandra and Dorian were out of earshot, she spoke. 

"You should do something about her, darling." 

Cullen started.  He could not have heard that right.  "Huh?" 

Vivienne did not look at him, nor did she stop walking.  "I've seen the way you look at her, as have we all.  Have you kissed her?" 

Cullen, still frozen to the spot, said nothing. 

"I thought not," she continued. "Not with how she looks at you when your back is turned."

His mind had gone conveniently blank.  Was _Vivienne_ really giving him relationship advice?

"Love is worth the risk, darling," the mage in question said.  "Whatever's stopping you, you need to get past it." 

That got him moving, jogging to catch up with her.  "Who said anything about --"

Vivienne waved a hand carelessly at him over her shoulder, brushing off his protests.  "Deny all you like, but go find her." 

They finally reached the tables, and Cullen started placing their scavenger hunt items, glad to have something to do with his hands.  "What? We're in the middle of --" 

"Go. Find. Her."  Vivienne's voice was iron, her dark eyes trained on Cullen with an intensity he'd rarely seen. 

"Um…" 

"Now."  When he didn't move, Vivienne gave a tiny sigh before turning to their pathetic gathering of clues on the table.  "Maker knows we aren't going to win anyway.  Blackwall was so excited, you'd think the man was, in fact, a child.  So go."  She glanced at him, and he was surprised by the hint of vulnerability he saw in her face.  "No more wasted days, darling." 

His resolve crumbled, replaced by hope and, much more surprising, the urge to hug her.  Thankfully, he restrained himself.  "Vivienne… I don't know what to say…"

She arched one perfect eyebrow, and he took a step backward.  "Except thank you bye!" The words poured out of him, and he jogged off, throwing his rugby jersey toward the table.  He glanced over his shoulder to see Vivienne watching him, what looked strangely like a smile across her face. 

Excitement finally took over, and he raced for the house.  He thought back to earlier in the day, all the tension he was sick of feeling when he thought about Talia, all the questions he wanted answered with the touch of her lips. 

It couldn't come fast enough. 

It was, however, remarkably difficult to find anyone inside the house.  Upstairs was deserted, as were the gym and the bathroom.  He finally found Sera emerging from her bedroom carrying a small doll, and she burst into giggles when Cullen asked where Talia was.  Iron Bull appeared moments later holding a stuffed lion, and even though he couldn't give Cullen any help, he did offer him a crisp high-five as he headed back outside. 

Varric, sunning himself beside the pool, had nothing to offer either.  Dorian and Cassandra reappeared moments later, still arguing though now it was over Cassandra's collection of romance novels.  Dorian laughed, saying "Oh, NOW you want my help," even as Cassandra pointed down toward the trees at the edge of Skyhold's property. 

"They said something about the bonus questions," she said.  "Good luck!"

"Thank you!" Cullen jogged off, ignoring Dorian's cat-calls behind him.  He was, however, just a little satisfied to hear the mage grunt in pain as Cassandra elbowed him in the gut. 

The trees loomed up in front of him, casting long shadows over the lawn.  For a moment, he hesitated -- they could be anywhere in there, and surely he looked a mess after his frantic run around the house.  He slowed, smoothing a hand over his hair and giving his armpits a quick sniff to be sure he wasn't gross. 

Then, as he was scratching the back of his neck and wishing for a mirror, he spotted Talia in one of the trees.  Blackwall waited at its base, gesturing toward something dangling from its branches.   As he watched, she pulled whatever it was -- a pair of shoes? -- free and climbed back down.  She and Blackwall conversed over their clue list, and for just a moment, Cullen's bravado failed him.  Maybe he shouldn't interrupt.  Maybe he should wait and find her later.  They could have a more private afternoon together, and he could tell her how he felt without having to get in her way. 

Then they turned back to the house.  Cullen saw the moment Talia saw him, her face lighting up, and all his hope and excitement came rushing back. 

\---

Talia had no idea why Cullen was heading her way, but she didn't care.  For a moment, she didn't even realize Vivienne wasn't with him, eyes trained on his smirk and that black t-shirt that hugged his body. 

She knew she was smiling like mad long before Blackwall elbowed her.  "You may be drooling," he murmured, and she blushed. 

Her smile, however, widened.    

Cullen headed right for them, slowing only to grab her arm and tug her along with him.  "Come with me," he nearly growled.  For a split second, she was concerned -- had something happened? -- but then his hand shifted so their fingers could intertwine.   "Please?"  He smiled at her over his shoulder, his eyes soft. 

"Blackwall, I'll be right back," she said to her partner, but the older man waved her off. 

"I got this," he said, looking at the clue sheet with almost maniacal glee.  "You kids have fun."  Talia could have sworn she heard him giggling as Cullen pulled her with him. 

They walked in silence for a few minutes, butterflies fluttering through Talia's stomach.  She'd never seen Cullen like this before, silent but radiating intensity, and she had to admit, it was kind of hot. 

But as the silence stretched on and he just kept walking along the path through the trees, she started to get nervous.  "Cullen?  Where're we going?" 

He glanced at her and gave her another reassuring smile.  "I'm looking for something." 

"Um…"  She glanced around and saw only trees and brush lining the running path they were on.  Around them, sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting ever-changing shadows. "What, exactly?" 

"This."  He stepped off the path toward a break in the trees.  Talia couldn't help it; she hesitated, her hand pulling against his.  Cullen turned, extending his other hand for hers.  "Come with me," he said, something soft and warm in his voice. 

For a second, Talia didn't move. 

He stepped closer.  "Please?"  His hand found hers, and he pulled her closer until their chests were almost touching.  "I want to…" He chuckled.  "Well.  It's silly, all things considered, but I wanted to, ah, give us some privacy." 

Her heart soared.  "I would love some privacy with you," she teased, if only to see him blush.  He obliged, running a hand over the back of his neck before leading her off the path into the trees.  Moments later, they stopped in a tiny clearing.  It wasn't anything special, basically just a small patch of grass surrounded by trees.  Talia stepped into the center, wondering why Cullen wanted to show her this place.  Then she looked around, and it clicked into place. 

The leaves hung in a canopy, sending shafts of sunlight arcing toward the ground under her feet.  If she looked up, she could see blue sky and fluffy white clouds, but all around her was fresh and green.  The slight breeze of the day rustled the trees, a gentle white noise that blocked out the sounds of Skyhold in the distance. 

It was a tiny haven in the midst of everything else, and Talia let out a long sigh as the strain of constant surveillance drained out of her. 

Cullen's voice, low and deep, reminded her that she wasn't alone.  "Do you like it?" 

She half-turned, enough to see him just behind her.  "It's beautiful." 

"I wanted to show you before," he said softly.  "But I wasn't sure if you'd trust me enough."  The edge of sorrow in his voice made her turn all the way around to face him. 

"Cullen, I…"  He stepped closer, and she swallowed her words, adrenaline rushing through her body.  She took a deep breath, sure he could hear the sound of her heart.  "I do trust you," she finally said. 

"I'm glad," he said, the scar on his mouth pulling as he smirked at her. 

She cocked an eyebrow at him.  "That being said… you want to tell me why we're here?"  There had been far too much seriousness between them to start that kind of conversation again, so instead she adopted that same teasing tone that made him blush so much. 

He did not disappoint, instead moving back a step to rub his neck.  "I wanted to… no, that's not right… well, it is, but… I just…" 

"Cullen?"

"Hm?"  He glanced up to meet her eyes, and she smirked at him. 

"You okay?" 

"Vivienne sent me," he blurted out, and Talia recoiled. 

"Huh?  Vivienne? Why, what's she got to do with this?"

Cullen chuckled, his uncertainty fading.  "I'm just as surprised, believe me.  She… said I shouldn't wait any longer, and I find that I… don't want to." 

"… wait for what?"  She knew what; at least, she hoped she knew what, felt in her bones that she knew what, but she didn't want to assume, and suddenly Cullen was stepping closer again, backing her carefully across the clearing with his hands on her waist.

"To be with you." 

Talia was certain he could hear the hitch in her breath as he spoke, her mouth parting in surprise as his words echoed through her heart.  For a moment she couldn't believe he was so forward, and then she felt her back bump a tree trunk, Cullen crowding her in with his body radiating heat.  Her face was turned up to him, his hand still on her waist and his other reaching for her jaw, but when she didn't respond, he hesitated. 

"But… if that's not what you want…" He pulled back a tiny bit, just an inch of space separating them.  "I mean, I guess I don't really know…" 

Her hand moved before she was aware of it, catching his jaw.  Pushing herself to her toes, she caught his mouth in a bruising kiss before she yanked herself away, apologies already on her lips.  "Maker, Cullen, I'm sorry, I--" 

But his lips swallowed her words as he kissed her back.  His hand tangled in her hair, thumb running over her cheek, and she melted into him, meeting every press of his lips with equal fervor.  He leaned into her, his arm sliding around to hold her to him, and she tightened her grip on his arm, anything to ground her as his kiss sent warmth spiraling through her. 

Talia broke before he did, the need for air barely overriding the demands of his mouth.  Cullen was breathing hard, his face flushed, and he leaned in to rest his forehead against hers as they both tried to catch their breath. 

Their eyes met as they leaned against each other.  Talia could see the question still lingering in Cullen’s amber gaze, that uncertainty if he was what she wanted, and so she smiled up at him.  To her relief, he smiled back, some tension draining out of his face.  Quickly she leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. 

He followed her when she pulled back, but instead of a kiss, he buried his face in her neck.  She wrapped her arms around him, holding him as close as possible, and he squeezed her back.  For a long moment, they didn’t move, only clung to each other, feeling the warmth and weight of each other’s bodies and knowing that they were really, finally, there.  All the emotion and stress of the previous weeks seeped out of their muscles at long last, leaving only calm and security in its wake. 

“Thank you for bringing me here,” Talia whispered eventually.  Her lips brushed his skin as she spoke, sending tiny shivers through his body, and he moved to kiss her again. 

“Thank you for… choosing someone like me,” he whispered when he broke their kiss.  “I didn’t know if… and I, ah.  I don’t deserve someone like you,” he finished softly, his eyes closed. 

“Cullen,” she said softly, her hands cupping his face.  He opened his eyes slowly, unwilling to meet her gaze at first.  “Why do you think that?” 

“You know why,” he said, his voice so soft she could barely hear him. 

“And yet I’m still here,” she replied.   Her eyes searched his face as she waited for him to reply, and when he didn’t, she rubbed her thumbs gently over his cheekbones.  “Cullen.  You can’t keep punishing yourself forever.” 

His eyes flew to hers, something hard but brittle in them.  “There is no other way to atone for what I’ve done.” 

Her heart broke for him.  So much pain and suffering weighed down his words, so much that she didn’t know how to answer. 

“There must be, you just have to find it,” she offered, surprised by her own words.  She herself was not very good at finding the silver lining in her life, instead wallowing in self-pity or simply ignoring all the issues she didn’t know how to deal with.  But Cullen inspired something deep inside her, some desire to see him whole and happy that she had never experienced before. 

It probably should have scared her.

But it did not.  Instead, standing in this clearing in the middle of the woods, this tiny haven, Talia had forgotten everything else: the TV show, her past, everything that once made her hesitate.  She only saw this man before her, broken and healing, and wanted with all her soul to help him. 

When it came, Cullen’s voice was shaky.  “Do you really believe that?  That I can atone somehow for what I’ve done?” 

Answering was easy.  “Of course.” 

“Really?”  His disbelief was palpable. 

Talia studied him.  He’d moved away at some point, her skin cold in the absence of his touch, and now paced across the little clearing as he rubbed between his eyes. 

There was no way one conversation between them was going to fix anything for Cullen.  That was clear.  Being with him meant everything here came along with him; in exchange for kisses, she’d also have conversations like this.  In exchange for someone to listen to her and laugh with her, she’d also have someone to cry with her.  That was, even to her most basic of understandings, was what a relationship meant. 

And she wanted to be there for him. 

Pushing away from the tree at her back, Talia walked over to him.  Gently she took his hands, untangling them from his face.  “I wouldn’t be here if I thought you were still the person I read about, Cullen.  I swear to you.” 

He studied her for a long moment, the silence stretching heavy between them. Finally, the furrow in his brow relaxed, and he took a deep breath.  “I… thank you.” 

She squeezed his hands.  “Of course.  I’m here with you, I promise.  I don’t know what we are, really, but I’m here.”  Cullen pulled her against him, held her tight against his chest, and she felt him trembling. 

When another long moment had passed and Cullen still hadn’t moved, Talia lifted a hand to run her fingers through his hair.  “This was supposed to be a happy moment, not a shitty one,” she murmured, laughing quietly into his chest. 

Cullen chuckled.  With a final squeeze, he let her go and stepped back, his hand coming up to rub his neck.  “I’m sorry about that,” he said, avoiding her eyes. 

"That's not what I meant,” she said seriously, catching his hand.  “No one's to blame, it’s… real, and that’s okay with me.” 

He smiled.  “Me too.” 

“You know…” His eyebrows rose in question, and she gave him a wicked smile.  “We can make it pretty awesome again, if you like.” 

Cullen didn’t say anything.  Instead he moved so fast Talia almost didn’t see him, scooping her up and spinning her around once before letting her slid down against his body.  His hands never left her, splayed across her back to keep her close, and he bent to kiss her, bumping her nose with his playfully before his lips found hers. 

There was something more obvious about this kiss than their first, something heavier and warmer that lingered as they were lost in one another.  Her nails scratched and dug into his shoulder as she hauled herself against him, playfulness gone in a rush of heat.  One of Cullen's hands slid underneath her shirt to caress her skin, and she gasped when he nipped her lower lip, breath catching in her throat.  In a split second, his tongue was in her mouth, tangling with hers, the rough wet slide of him sending a rush of throbbing heat through her stomach.  She tugged his hair, just enough so he'd feel it, and he broke away with a groan. 

"Maker, I'm sorry, I just…" 

She stared up at him as she tried to catch her breath.  "You have got… to stop apologizing… for something I'm enjoying so much," she gasped, barely able to get the words out.  She'd imagined their first kisses what felt like a thousand times, and nothing had ever been as intimate -- or as hot -- as that.

For a moment they just held each other, racing heartbeats and pulsing warmth needing a minute to cool. 

Finally, Talia spoke.  “We have to go back,” she murmured, fingers tracing idle patterns on his chest.

Cullen looked as disheveled as she felt – his hair was a mess from her hands and his eyes a little wild.  But he nodded slowly, still breathing hard.  “I know.  I don’t want to, but I know.” 

They walked back slowly, dawdling with kisses and smiles.  Just before the path opened into the yard, while they were still under the shade of the trees, Cullen tugged her back against him to hug her one last time. 

“This was supposed to be a chance for me to… tell you how I felt,” he said.  “And instead… I’m so sorry.” 

Talia smiled at him, running her hand along his forearm.  "You're doing it again," she said.  He must have realized for he looked away, and she tugged him back around with a wink.   “And I still got a kiss out of it.” 

That smirk spread slowly across his face, just shy of smug.  “And many more, if you should want them.” 

“Oh, I think I do.”  She pressed a warm, open kiss to his lips, and he responded in kind.  It wasn’t the same mind-numbing kiss of earlier, but it still carried all the relief of finally knowing, finally being together.  

When they broke apart, Cullen jostled her playfully.  “Maybe next time, we can actually enjoy ourselves.” 

She gave him a heated look. “Oh, I’m sorry, are you not enjoying this?” 

As she’d hoped, he blushed and fidgeted awkwardly.  “What? No! Of course I am! I just… I meant, without any of my… without me getting… oh, Maker, I don’t know what I’m trying to say.” 

Talia interlaced their fingers and pulled him toward the house.  “I know what you mean.  Next time we hang out –”

“So, tomorrow,” he added.  

“Yes, assuming I don't change my mind about you," she teased.  Cullen, however, went white. 

"You could do…" Color slowly came back to his face as he studied her, taking in the laughter in her eyes and the smirk across her lips.  Suddenly he towered over her, his height much more intimidating when coupled with the stone-like expression on his face. 

Talia pushed herself up to her full height in response.  "I'd never," she declared, raising her chin defiantly.  They stared each other down for a moment before Cullen cracked a smile.  Before she'd realized, he crouched and tossed her over his shoulder. 

\---

The shriek of surprise she gave echoed in his ears as her weight settled against him.  He didn't fight the smirk on his lips; instead he swung from side to side, making a big production of looking for a place to carry her, chuckling as her hair swept across his back. 

"Cullen, put me down!" She yelped as she tugged at his shirt. 

"Nope," he said cheerfully.  Though it wasn't his first choice, he headed for the house -- they were due back soon for the end of the scavenger hunt. 

After a few moments of walking, Talia gave up pulling at his clothes and slumped over.  "Where are we going now?" she asked, fingers running along the skin just above his jeans. 

"Somewhere… private," he told her, though as soon as he'd said it, he realized once again how foolish that was.  There was no privacy to be had at Skyhold. 

"Really?"  Her salacious tone gave her away as she reached down and smacked his ass, and Cullen jumped.  The movement bounced her a little, and she yelped. 

"I've got you," he reassured her, squeezing her legs in his grasp.  "And clearly my performance wasn't very convincing, if you aren't sure if you'll like me tomorrow.  So I'm taking you somewhere I can kiss you until you make up your mind." 

In his arms, he felt her still and slowed his steps.  "Is… that okay?" 

"Cullen, put me down," she said softly, her voice serious.  Without hesitating, he bent and let her slip from his shoulders, expecting her to avoid his gaze and explain all the reasons why they couldn't be together.  It wasn't what he wanted, but Maker knew it was probably what he deserved.   He trailed his hands along her sides as he stood, hoping against hope that she'd let him hold her a little longer. 

Instead, as Cullen straightened, Talia stepped even closer to him, her breasts brushing his chest.  His breath caught in his throat as she lifted her hands to frame his face, training her eyes on his.  "Cullen."  His name was little more than a whisper as it left her lips, but her voice shook as though she was close to sobbing.  "Listen to me.  I promise," She shook her head once as if to clear it before she squeezed his cheeks gently to emphasize her words.  "No, I swear to you: I will still like you tomorrow." 

He stammered as he replied, knowing it sounded desperate but unwilling to let himself care.  Let her know how much she meant to him, now, before they got any further.  "P-promise?" 

Talia slid one hand around his head to dig her fingers into his hair, her other hand scratching lightly at the back of his neck.  "Promise.  I will like you tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after, until I have a reason not to." 

His lips met hers before she finished speaking, hard and frantic as he clutched her close.  If he could help it, he would never give her a reason, and this he poured in their kiss, his touch, with everything he was. 

"So… tomorrow?" He prompted when he pulled back.  Talia smiled up at her, her lips kiss-swollen and her make-up smeared. 

"Tomorrow," she answered, running her hands over his chest.  "No talk of heavy stuff.  Just fun, for once." 

Cullen lifted his thumb to smooth the line of her lipstick.  "Agreed."  With a smirk, he leaned in and kissed her softly once more. 

"Well looky here," a voice called, and they popped apart.  Iron Bull stood at the crest of the yard, hands on his hips as he watched.  "Glad to see you kids finally figured shit out." 

Talia glanced at him before a smile broke over her face.  "So are we, Bull," she said softly, leaning into Cullen's side.  He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close, the warm weight of her against him more than he'd hoped for just that morning.  With a smile of his own, he pressed his nose into her hair. 

"That's just disgustingly cute," came Dorian's voice, and Cullen jerked up to find the mage standing next to Iron Bull, staring down at them. 

"Don't be jealous, Dorian," Talia giggled.  Cullen wanted to kiss her for standing up for him.  Then, with a rush, he realized he _could_ kiss her, and so he did.  Dorian made a noise like he was throwing up, and Talia casually gave him the finger without breaking from Cullen's lips. 

"Well, when you are quite finished, we're waiting for you to judge the scavenger hunt," he announced before Cullen heard the grass whisper under his retreating footsteps. 

Talia pulled away only to lean up and kiss the tip of his nose.  "I guess we should head up there?"  She sounded unsure, her body still safely nestled in Cullen's arms. 

"Why?" He found himself asking, resting his forehead against hers.  "I have everything I want right here." 

To his surprise, she laughed.  "Cullen, that is the cheesiest line."  She pressed herself closer until only clothing separated them.  "Good thing I like you." 

"Until tomorrow, I hope," Cullen replied, hands splayed across her back.   "I'll try not to disappoint."  They kissed for another long minute, making up for all the missed chances and interruptions of the past weeks.  When they finally broke apart to head back to the house, Cullen laced their fingers together.  The reality show might beckon, but he wanted to hang on to something that was theirs for just a little longer. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! I was nervous about posting this chapter for some reason, and I put it off. Hope you enjoyed it!! Please feel free to tell me how I did in the comments :)


	12. Chapter 12

When he heard the noises coming through the walls, Cullen wondered if perhaps Blackwall could sleep through anything.  He must -- Cullen had had his share of nightmares during the five and half weeks on the show, which at times could wake the dead let alone the gruff older man.  And now, as Cullen lay in bed listening to the grunts and moans coming through the walls, Blackwall was still asleep. 

_Maker's breath_ , but he wished he could sleep like that. 

With a sigh that was half exhaustion and half disgust, Cullen slid from his blankets and pulled on a pair of pajama pants.  His shirt was rumpled on the floor, but it would have to do; somewhere in the room next door, Dorian was begging for… well, something Cullen was glad he couldn't quite understand, if the grunting of the huge qunari were any indication.  He grabbed the shirt, yanking it over his head just as the unmistakable sound of hand on flesh echoed across the room. 

Once again, he wished for Blackwall's deep, uninterrupted slumber. 

Cullen crept from the room, closing the door carefully lest that, of all things, wake his roommate.  The noises from next door lessened as he headed for the kitchen and living room, thank the Maker.  Perhaps if he went upstairs to the library, he could read for a while before sleep claimed him again.  The dream he'd been having was tame compared to what it could be, reliving that night trapped in Kinloch Hold, but that meant little.  If he didn't distract himself, he'd be right back there when he closed his eyes, especially after 'witnessing' whatever was happening next door. 

The kitchen was dark.  Cullen didn’t dare turn on a light; knowing Dorian, he would probably get louder if he knew they had an audience, and Cullen didn't want to give him one.  He cracked open the fridge enough to grab a bottle of water before he continued through the living room.  The couch there had been comfortable enough weeks before -- perhaps after he tired himself out, he could find a bed there tonight. 

As he entered the living room though, he saw that someone else had already had that idea:  Talia. 

She lay curled up under a blanket, her head on the armrest.  A book had fallen on the floor beside her, upside down and open, and as he stepped closer, he picked it up and set it on the end table.  For just a moment, he contemplated walking past, up to the library to isolate himself for the nightmares that would eventually come.  They'd been getting worse, his sleep more disturbed in the passing days, and he didn't want her to see him like that. 

But his desire to be near her overwhelmed any noble sensibilities he had about sparing her, and instead he sat down on the other end of the couch.  He leaned back, itching to touch her but not wanting to wake her.  Since their kiss a few days before, they'd seen surprisingly little of each other -- Leliana had shown up with Josephine for interviews with the scavenger hunt champions, and even though Blackwall had finished the hunt without Talia, she still had to be included.  It was unorthodox, as Josephine apologized for, but apparently Blackwall's enthusiasm had been near-stunning, and the show wanted to capitalize on it.  The next day, Cullen had been wiped out by the worst migraine yet, and Cassandra had confined him to his bedroom.  Like a child, he'd grumbled, but even he was afraid of pissing off the Seeker.  And then today.  Today had been a series of near-misses; they'd passed in the hallway as Dorian dragged her out to the pool, and again as Cullen was on his way to the library. 

Each time, he thought he could see the same longing he felt written on her face. 

This was the first uninterrupted time together they'd had, and Talia was asleep. 

Cullen wasn't quite sure it counted. 

As if hearing his thoughts, the woman beside him stirred.  It wasn't much at first, just her legs moving under the blanket, but Cullen's heart soared.  He wanted nothing more than to lean over and gather her against his chest, holding her until she made him stop. 

That was probably not a good way to wake someone in the middle of the night though.  Instead he watched her wake up.  The arm that had been dangling off the side of the couch came up to pull the blanket off her face, and her eyes opened, the light sparkling off their green depths as she took in the room.  Slowly she sat up, the blanket falling from her shoulders as she did, and stretched.  One foot slid and met Cullen's thigh. 

Talia froze. 

Cullen did too.  Her foot inched along his leg as if unsure what she'd encountered, and he fought to urge to reach out and tickle her.  Thankfully a moment later, she turned to look.  A smile broke over her sleepy face. 

"I'm so glad that's you and not someone else," she said, voice raspy with sleep.  She wiggled around until she could lean against him.  For a second, Cullen hesitated to touch her;  Talia must have felt it, for she pulled back quickly.  "Um… is this okay?" 

His relief must have shown on his face.  "I was going to ask you the same before I hugged you," he said, tucking his arm around her.  Relaxing against him, he felt her exhale and smiled.  "How did you end up sleeping on the couch? Cass didn't kick you out, did she?"  He had trouble coming up with a scenario where that would have happened, but one never knew if the Seeker hadn't gotten any sleep. 

"Of course not," Talia said, adjusting herself so she could pull the blanket around her again.  "Sera's having sex next door and woke me up.  That's…" she paused as she thought of a semi-polite word.  "Um. Private, so I left.  Cassandra was… sleeping through it, lucky her." 

Cullen laughed out loud.  "That's what my neighbors are doing!" 

She giggled into his chest.  "Ewwwwww."   Heat crept into his cheeks even as he cuddled her against him. 

"Wait, who is Sera… Not with Vivienne?"  He couldn't keep the disbelief out of his voice. 

"No, with herself," Talia explained cheerfully, and if possible, he blushed harder.   Talia studied him for a moment before suddenly maneuvering so she was straddling him.  Leaning back, he moved his hands to the couch, a respectable distance from her until he knew what was going on. 

"Cullen," she began, resting one hand on his chest.  She was holding herself up instead of sitting on him, her knees on either side of his thighs.  "You aren't a virgin, are you?" 

"What? No!"  It burst out of him before he could stop it, before he could think of how to broach the topic of sex between them.  Maker's sake, they'd only just kissed; surely she didn't want to move things that quickly, and if she did… perhaps he'd misjudged. 

Talia raised an eyebrow at him.  "I'm only curious," she said gently, removing her hand.  "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, I'm sorry." 

The quick judgments he'd been building in his head ebbed, and he grasped her hip before she could move away.  "You didn't, I just… I mean, you did, a little, but only because…"  His other hand rubbed the back of his neck as she looked at him expectantly.  "I'm not good at talking about… that, as you can tell," he said, blushing despite his conviction to continue.  "And I… don't want to rush things, not now that I've finally managed to --" 

"Kiss me, Cullen," she interrupted, her hands back on his chest.  "Please?  I don't want to rush either, but I need --" 

He surged against her, catching her lips with his.  One hand snaked up her back to grasp her head, his other wrapped around her hips to hold her against him, and she sank into him.  Nipping at his lip, she begged him to open, and he offered himself up gladly, letting her explore his mouth with all the heat and intensity she could give as he gave back.  She pushed to her knees again to get closer, and Cullen dragged her against him, feeling her breasts press against his chest through the thin shirts they both wore.  His hand slid up from her hip, thumb brushing the underside of her breast, and she arched into him, heat suddenly blooming in new and exciting places.  Her fingernails bit into the skin of his shoulder just enough to hurt, and he groaned into her mouth, feeling himself harden in his pajama pants. 

He rolled his hips once, more involuntary than any true search for friction, but when she ground down in response, they both froze. 

"Too fast," Talia gasped as she pulled away just enough to let their lust cool. 

His hand drifted back to her hip, holding her up just enough not to let her feel the effect she had on him, not yet.  "A little, yes," he agreed, brushing a chaste kiss over her lips.  He felt more than saw her smile as she kissed him back. 

"I… want to know more about you, before we get there," she ventured, her fingers working through his hair.  Cullen chuckled. 

"I had the same thought about you a few weeks ago," he told her.  "Can I start with why you have a copy of Swords and Shields out here with you?" 

Her mouth made a perfect "O" of surprise before she burst out laughing, clapping a hand over her mouth so she didn't wake their housemates.  "That's what you want to know?" 

Cullen smirked.  "Of course.  What did you think I'd ask?" 

"I don't know, Cullen," she said, still laughing.  "We'd just been making out, I figured you'd ask how many guys I've slept with or what my favorite sex position is or something." 

He nearly choked.  "Your favorite… Why do I need to -- I mean, not right _now_ certainly, so I… Andraste preserve me, you're just messing with me, aren't you?"  She was shaking with suppressed laughter now, both hands latched over her mouth, and he dug his fingers into her sides with sudden gusto, searching for a ticklish spot.  Talia squealed, hands coming free to bat his off her, and suddenly the living room light went on. 

"What is happening out here?" Cassandra snapped, her tank top askew.  Behind her, Vivienne stood blinking at the sudden light. 

"For once," she said, tying her dressing gown shut.  "I am inclined to agree with our de factor leader." 

Talia scrambled off Cullen's lap, and he popped up to stand beside her.  "Sorry," they both muttered. 

"Go to bed," Vivienne snapped.  She gave them a scathing look, and Cullen shrank away, feeling rather like a naught schoolboy.  "Separate beds.  I've had enough of that tonight."   She marched back to her bedroom, and Cassandra glanced at her as she passed. 

"I'm as surprised as she is to find I agree with her," she informed them.   She turned to go, then hesitated and looked back at them.  "And if you aren't going to sleep… at least find somewhere you won't wake anyone up." 

Cullen watched her stalk back to bed with his hand on the back of his neck.  He should have gone upstairs like he planned.  But then again, little since his arrival in the house had gone according to a plan. 

Glancing over at the main unanticipated change in his plans, he saw Talia sporting a wicked smile.  She caught him staring, and grabbed his hand, pulling him toward the patio.  "Come with me," she whispered, grabbing the blanket off the couch where they'd been sitting.  "We're going to play a game." 

\---

The motion-detector light clicked on as soon as she opened the patio door, bathing the pool in brightness.  Despite her temptation to jump straight into the water, Talia skirted by, still pulling Cullen along by one hand.  She abandoned the patio, instead walking out into the grass toward her yoga spot.   

A light breeze rustled the trees just before them, and crickets chirping nearby quieted as they reached the place.  Handing an edge to Cullen, they spread the blanket out over the grass, pulling the edges to make sure it was big enough.  When they finished, Talia threw herself down and gestured for Cullen to join her.  He did, wiggling closer until she could rest her head on his chest, his arm draped around her shoulders. 

The stars glittered down at them, and for a long time they simply lay there in silence, enjoying the slight nip in the air that encouraged them to cling together for warmth. 

Eventually Cullen nudged her.  "You said you wanted to play a game," he reminded her.  The soft smile on his lips told her that he wouldn't mind if they abandoned that idea, content to simply be together, but she could see the spark of curiosity in his eyes. 

"Basically it's just truth or dare," she said, rolling to put her chin on his chest so she could look at him.  "But you ignore the dare part." 

He looked confused.  "So… it's just asking questions and you have to tell the truth?" 

"Yes?"  She hadn't thought about it like that.  She and Dorian called it The Question Game, and Varric and Hawke had a version of it too, although theirs involved considerably more alcohol.  Maybe Cullen wouldn't go for it; the man had a lot of things he didn't like to talk about after all.

"Okay, what're the rules?" 

That surprised her.  There were no rules, just that you had to answer the questions.  "Um… Basically you just have to answer honestly.  And fun topics only!" 

He chuckled.  "What if I don't answer? Or you don't believe me?" 

Her eyes lit up.  "Each forfeit requires a favor.  And a challenge…" 

"A challenge requires a kiss," he suggested, blushing a little even as he smirked at her. 

"Deal."  She leaned over and kissed him to seal the deal, pulling away before it could get too heated.  "And no repeats.  Can't have you copying my questions all night." 

Cullen stuck his tongue out at her, an act that was so entirely un-Cullen-like that she burst out laughing. 

"Told you I'm not serious all the time," he said once her giggles subsided. 

"That was weeks ago!" 

"Well… That's how long it takes." 

She rolled her eyes and shifted so she was lying on her back beside him.  Cullen adjusted too, careful to lace his fingers through hers.  "I'll start," she announced once they were comfortable.  "Favorite color?" 

"That's easy -- maroon.  Favorite food?" 

"Ooooh there are these little chocolate pastries at a shop in Val Royeaux, they are the most amazing thing I have ever eaten in my life."   She caught Cullen peeking over at her and giggled.  "We'll have to go sometime." 

"Sounds delicious.  Your turn." 

"Right.  Um… What do you do for fun, Mr. I-Spend-My-Days-Off-In-Court?" 

He gave her a sideways glance.  "How did you remember that?  It was the first day here!" 

Talia elbowed him.  "You were handsome and brooding.  How could I not pay attention?"  Cullen chuckled beside her.   

"What kind of favor did you have in mind?" 

She made an indignant noise.  "You aren't going to answer?" 

He squeezed her hand.  "It's only what you already know -- I like to read and work out and I really do spend my days off in court." 

Talia groaned.  "I'm with Sera, that's so boring."  Feeling adventurous, she rolled until she was laying stretched out on top of him, and to her delight, he wrapped her up in his arms.  "Tell me something I don't know.  What's your weirdest hobby, if you won't answer the other?" 

"Watching rugby?" 

"That's not weird!"  She poked him gently in the ribs, giggling when he flinched.  "Tell me something really weird, like kinky-weird." 

"I'm actually quite boring," Cullen said with a chuckle. 

"Impossible," she replied, kissing him gently.  "I don't like boring people." 

"Fine.  I… know how to fence.  Is that sufficiently weird?" 

She gave him a perplexed look.  "Like… with swords?  En garde, and all that?"  He nodded, and she laughed. "That's definitely weird! Why didn't you tell me that originally?"  Cullen didn't respond, only dug his fingers into her sides, finding those ticklish spots Talia hated with ease.  With a squeal, she rolled off him and he followed, pinning her with his weight. 

"Maybe I wanted to owe you later," he whispered huskily, and she pulled him down to meet her. 

"Maybe I won't pester you if this is the result," she murmured into his lips.  Smiling, he kissed her hard, and heat bloomed between her legs.  "Cullen," she whispered when he pulled back to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down her throat.  "It's -- oh!" She yelped a little when he nipped her pulse.  "Your turn." 

He pushed himself up to all fours over her.  "I'm -- not sorry," he cut himself off when he saw the look on her face.  "But I did get carried away."  With a last lingering kiss to her lips, he moved away, a little stiff-legged, and Talia giggled.  If he was feeling anything like she was, he'd need a minute to compose himself. 

"How many siblings do you have?"  He asked after a moment. 

Talia inwardly cringed.  "Living or dead?"  That would certainly kill the mood, and she caught the stunned look Cullen gave her. 

"Both, I guess…"  His eyebrows knit with concern, and with only a split second hesitation, he lay back down beside her.  Gently he looped his arm under her and pulled her to his chest, and she let him hold her. 

"Then I have five," she said softly.  "But one died when I was young." 

"Can I… ask what happened?"  She could hear the hesitation in his voice.  

"There was a car accident.  You know the scars on my arm?  That's what they're from.  I got lucky, but Henry… died."  Talia didn't elaborate.  She couldn't, not now when they were supposed to be learning fun things about each other, not depressing ones. 

"Talia, I'm so sorry.  If I lost Branson or my sisters… Maker knows what I'd do." 

"It was a long time ago, Cullen," she said, fighting down the tears that were welling up.  With a shaky smile, she turned to hide her face against his chest.  Thankfully he didn't ask anything else, only held her tight and waited. 

When she felt more under control, she sat up and leaned back on her arms.  "My turn, right?" 

Beside her, Cullen sat up too.  "Yes, but we don't have to play anymore." 

Talia smiled cautiously.  "But I still have things I want to know about you." 

"If you're sure, then by all means, ask away."  But he stayed sitting just a little further away from her than before. 

Eager to bring their cheerful banter back, Talia wiggled her eyebrows at him.  "I missed it at the scavenger hunt before.  What did you and Vivienne bring back for 'something that belongs in the bedroom'?" 

Cullen went scarlet in the moonlight.  "We… couldn't think of anything for that one," he said, but he avoided her eyes and Talia was suddenly suspicious. 

"Are you sure?  I thought Varric said all the groups got that one." 

He leaned on his knees, trying to hide his face.  "We uh… brought the handcuffs." 

For a moment, Talia was sure she hadn't heard him right.  Blushing, stammering Cullen had handcuffs for the bedroom? 

"Now that is kinky-weird," she told him, unable to control her laughter.  Within seconds, he started babbling about them being left over in his pants from work, which only made her laugh harder, and Blackwall had already grabbed condoms so they didn't have anything else, and then Cullen was laughing with her, and he gathered her back up in his arms, kissing her lips and cheeks between chuckles. 

"I was afraid my question had ruined the night," he said eventually, when they'd settled down.  He'd pulled her down to lie with him again, his hand tracing idle patterns over her shoulders. 

"I'm glad it didn't," Talia said, pressing a kiss to his chest.  "It's… easy, to talk to you," she said when silence had settled over them.  "I wouldn't have expected to feel so comfortable with a new boyfriend so fast." 

He lifted his head to look quizzically at her.  "Am I your boyfriend then?" 

"If… that's okay with you?"  She hadn't really thought much about it -- the term seemed juvenile, and their relationship, or whatever it was, had barely started.  The label didn't matter so much. 

"I'd be honored."  They traded light-hearted questions back and forth, wondering how Talia liked her job or whether or not Cullen could cook (nothing more complicated than toast).  Talia revealed that she loved to dance but hated politics, she liked pizza and beer but preferred whiskey, and she adored super-dramatic period pieces like Kentside Estate.  Cullen, as it turned out, could not only fence but also sing, though he didn't like to admit it.  He liked Fereldan ale best and hated Orlais on principle, to Talia's supreme lack of surprise, and he'd always had to be the princess when playing with his siblings as a child -- Rosalie, his younger sister, insisted on being the knight and Branson was always the ogre. 

"And who was Mia," Talia asked, laughing. 

"The Queen of Ferelden.  It fit, trust me," he said.  "My question?"  Talia nodded, stifling a yawn.  She was enjoying herself, listening to Cullen talk about his childhood with such glee and feeling his chest rise and fall beneath her head.  But the late hour was getting to her, and her sleep-deprived ideas were never the best ones. 

Cullen obviously caught this, and he sat up carefully so he didn't dislodge her.  "Why don't you get to bed?" 

She gave him a dirty look, trying to hide another yawn that he caught.  "That doesn't count as your question."  He yawned as well. 

"No, I'll think of one."  Pushing himself up, he offered her a hand.  "Come on, I'll walk you to bed."   

The grass was damp under their feet as they walked back, Talia swinging Cullen's hand like they were young and silly.  It didn't seem to bother him in the slightest; she could see a tiny smile on his face out of the corner of her eye.  When the lights on the patio clicked on, sparkling into the depths of the pool, he pulled her to him and wrapped his arms around her waist.  "Okay, I've thought of something," he announced.  "You did a backflip on the obstacle course.  How did you learn to do that?" 

Talia slid her hands around his waist, slipping them just under the hem of his shirt to feel his skin.  He shivered.  "My parents made me take gymnastics classes as a child, and I kept it up.  That's about all I can do anymore, other than the yoga stuff, but it's a fun trick when I want to show off." 

"I don't know what I expected, but it wasn't that," he told her.  With careful movements, he slid his hands down her back until they rested just above her bottom.  "Come out with me on the next date night," he said suddenly.  "I wanted to ask last time, but…" 

"Of course!"  She leaned back against his arms.  "Promise me you won't let me get arrested this time?" 

"Maker, I hope not."  Leaning in, he kissed her for the first time in nearly twenty minutes, and heat rose in her stomach like it had been months.   "You know," he breathed into her skin.  "You never answered my question about Swords and Shields way back."  His lips brushed her ear, and she shivered. 

"I wasn't reading that," she murmured, her eyes closed as he kissed her neck. 

Cullen pulled away to study her.  "Really? I saw the book cover," he said, his warm brown eyes confused.

With a smirk, Talia reached down and pinched his rear end.  Cullen stumbled forward in surprise, pushing them nearly up against the wall of the house.  "I promise you," she said, willing him to hear the meaning in her voice.  "I wasn't reading Swords and Shields." 

Understanding dawned on his face, and he leaned in.   "I don't believe you," he told her, his lips just brushing hers. 

She couldn't help the way her breathing sped up as electricity tingled through her.  "Is that a challenge?"  She asked, giving him her best come hither look. 

"Absolutely."  He pounced, catching her lips with his.  Talia fell back against the house, her arms around his waist pulling him with her, and one of his knees buckled.  He grunted, catching himself with one arm, but kept kissing her, and she opened to him, sucking his tongue as he ventured into her mouth.  She pushed back against him as he pinned her to the wall, the warm weight of him delicious against her body.  With a groan, Cullen grabbed her ass and hauled her up, bracing her against the siding.  She wrapped her legs around his waist, too high to feel his arousal but if he was reacting anything like her, his whole body felt like it was on fire. 

Dropping his head, he kissed along the edge of her shirt, refusing to push too fast as she dug her fingers into his hair.  She knew she was rolling her hips against his abs, knew this was too fast for their fledgling relationship, but she couldn’t help it, couldn't think beyond his lips and tongue drawing lines of fire up her throat.  One hand pulled him up by the hair so she could reach his lips again and he reacted, throwing himself into the kiss with such force she almost hit her head on his nose. 

Then his knee buckled the rest of the way. 

Talia felt him stumble backward, trying to keep them up, and couldn't help how she clung to him, all instinct and little thinking.  For a second, he seemed to regain his footing -- they were wobbly but okay -- but when Talia tried to wiggle free so she could support herself, he reeled back again with a grunt, and suddenly they were underwater. 

Luckily they fell into the shallow end of the pool.  Cullen kept one arm locked around her waist, pulling her up with him when he found his footing, and together they coughed and sputtered to the surface.  Once she found her footing, Cullen let her go, and Talia stepped back to wipe her eyes. 

"You all right," he sputtered, spitting out a mouthful of pool water.  He cracked an eye at her, his hair dripping down his face, and she couldn't help her giggling. 

"I'm fine," she told him. "You okay?"  He nodded and raised a hand to his face.  Talia watched as he wiped his eyes and then his mouth before she splashed him.  Cullen paused where he was, his lips twisted into an elaborate cringe. 

"You look pretty cute all wet," she said, still laughing.  He lunged for her, grabbing her low around the legs and lifting her to balance against his shoulders.  His skin was warm through his soaked shirt, and Talia slung her arms around his neck, reveling in how she could feel the outlines of his muscles in the cling of the fabric.   "Oo, I take it back," she said, using her nails to scratch gently.  "You're pretty sexy when you're all wet." 

He shifted so he could hold her to him with one hand, his other cupping her face.  "My plan was to throw you in the deep end, you know," he told her, his thumb tracing her jaw.  Talia leaned in, bending to trail kisses up his neck. 

"That would be awfully mean." 

"I… oh!"  He bit back a moan when she nipped his throat.  Pleased with herself, Talia laved the spot with her tongue.  She'd never enjoyed teasing anyone as much as Cullen, and the feel of him under her hands and lips was almost more than she could stand.  He groaned again when she trailed her tongue along the shell of his ear.  "You have got to stop if we're taking things slow," he murmured, burying his face in her neck. 

"Right, right."  She pulled herself away, feeling arousal throb between her legs.  "Sorry."  Quickly she kissed the tip of his nose before extricating herself from his arms with a splash.  The frown that creased his face said he regretted her going, even if he knew why as well as she did.    

"We should get out of the pool," she said after a moment of awkward silence. 

Cullen nodded and waded toward the stairs.  "I know."  He reached for her hand to help her out, kissing her quickly before finding a towel.  She couldn't help her smirk when he scuffed it through his hair, leaving those blond curls standing on end, and he passed it to her so she could dry her own hair. 

Once they were acceptably dry, they headed inside, careful not to get too close lest they lose their self-control again.  Cullen still threaded their fingers together, but Talia kept herself at a distance -- she'd never get to sleep otherwise.    At the door to her bedroom, Cullen tugged her into his arms one last time. 

"This was… I enjoyed… Maker, I --" 

She pushed to her toes to kiss him silent.  "I had fun with you too, Cullen," she whispered, giving him a hug.  He didn't reply, only squeezed her close and buried his face in her damp hair. 

"See you tomorrow?"  He asked tentatively when he pulled away, giving her a lopsided smile. 

"Of course."  Cracking her door open, Talia saw that Cassandra was thankfully asleep.  "Sleep well."  She gave his hand a last squeeze before she stepped into her room and closed the door, leaving Cullen in the hallway. 

This time, when she tried to sleep, the Fade came easily, full of warm dreams of hands on backs and lips on throats that never quite lived up to reality. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying to give their relationship a realistic feel, so the balance between tension and talking might be a little wonky at first. Doing my best! Let me know if I'm doing well :)


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the long delay! I got really stuck w/ this chapter, and then I got distracted writing something new. 
> 
> On the plus side, I'm several chapters ahead now, so I should be back to posting fairly regularly on Sundays. Have an extra-long chapter as my apology!

The breeze pulled the smoke away before it could settled into their clothes, which suited Cullen just fine.   He'd managed to dress himself in something reasonably presentable, even going so far as to throw his one suit jacket over his arm on the way outside, and he didn't want to mess it up before Talia saw him.  The desire to impress her was vain, he knew, but he didn't care.

 When he stepped into the living room, Varric had offered him a cigarette, his first in years.  It was a habit that had died with his Templar vows, traded for something more destructive over time, but he didn't mind picking it up occasionally, especially not when the dwarf was offering.  

He knew that Varric could see the purple shadows under his eyes and the way his skin flushed even when he hadn't done anything stupid.  What had been stubble had grown into a nearly-full beard over the last week, his hands too shaky to manage his razor.  But he hadn't said anything, only offered him a smoke and the chance to sit outside and relax before the second date night of The Real World: Skyhold got started. 

Cullen was grateful.  He didn't need any further reminders that, despite how he tried to keep himself healthy, the lyrium withdrawal was slowly grinding him down.  

His companion made idle chit-chat as they waited for the others.  Cullen only half-listened, soothed by the gravelly sound of Varric's voice.  The sky stretched wide and blue above them, the breeze already hinting at a pleasant evening despite the humidity.  Though he'd asked Talia out, she'd taken charge of what they were doing -- something about a double date with Dorian and Iron Bull, which he didn’t mind.  Dorian was always pleasant enough, if a little loud in the room next door, and he trusted Iron Bull, which went a lot further in his mind. 

He blew out a lungful of smoke, the cigarette burning away between his fingers.  He doubted he'd finish it, but it was nice to have something to hold onto as he leaned back in the patio chair.  The past week with Talia had been stressful, but a good kind of stress, the kind he hadn't experienced in many years.  She made him want to pull her close and tickle her, listen to her stories until late at night, tell her everything he'd been keeping silent for far too long, and she seemed to want all that in return.  He was a lucky man. 

A headache lingered on the edges of his senses, its pounding heightened by the fading sunshine of late afternoon, and he thought about his last conversation with Cassandra that morning.   She approved of he and Talia's relationship -- silently he wondered what he'd have done if she didn't, and a rather vulgar suggestion came to mind -- but she was worried about his symptoms.  Cullen had tried to placate her, denying his migraines or nightmares as much as possible, but he suspected the sharp Seeker saw right through him.  When he'd asked what she was doing that night, she'd given him a dirty look and told him not to drink too much, neatly sidestepping his inquiry before she walked away. 

He smirked now, thinking about it.  While she might have guessed that he was a little worse off than he'd admit, she hadn't caught his deft turn of their conversation into territory that would drive her away.  He was a little proud of that, he'd admit. 

"What're you smiling at?"  Talia's voice carried across the patio, and he turned to greet her, forgetting all about the cigarette in his hand. 

"Nothing, I just -- what?"  Her eyes had gone wide. 

"You smoke?" 

_Caught_.  "What?  Um.  Sometimes?"  He spun in his seat, looking for Varric to corroborate his story.  The dwarf sat beside him with a shit-eating grin, cigarette nowhere to be found.  "You traitor," he grumbled at him. 

"Cullen, seriously?  Gross," Talia said, crossing her arms. 

He stubbed it out on the patio and got up.  Going to her, he cupped her elbows and pulled her to him.  "Talia, I swear," he said, missing how she recoiled at the smoke on his breath.  "Varric offered, and I took him up on it.  It's the first one in… maybe five years? Maybe more."  He shot a dirty look over his shoulder at the dwarf, who shrugged. 

Talia glared at Varric too.  "That true?"  She demanded.  Varric shrugged again, not speaking, and her brow creased.   "What's in your mouth?"  He made a face like _Who, me?_ And shook his head vigorously. 

Cullen smirked, his own arms crossed.  This was good. 

Talia stepped very close to the dwarf, towering over him.  "Varric."  He shook his head again before his oxygen ran out and he coughed, still keeping his mouth closed.  Smoke poured out his nostrils.   Talia couldn't keep her straight face any longer. 

"Shit, Sunburst," he grumbled, coughing and spitting the remains of his cigarette into his hands as she laughed.  "Why do you have to do that?"  Cullen chuckled himself. 

"Serves you right," he told Varric, who shot him a dirty look. 

"Whatever, Curly," he grumbled back before he got up.  "Anyway, I got a date.  Catch you too later.  And whatever you do," he elbowed Talia on his way past, which caught her about hip-level.  "Don't get arrested again." 

Talia stuck her tongue out at his retreating back, and Cullen chuckled.  "Why do people keep saying that to me?"  She asked, turning back to him. 

"They're just worried," he said, leaning in to hug her again.  She let him but wouldn't kiss him, instead stepping back and digging around in her purse. 

"Here," she said after a moment, handing him a mint.  "You smell." 

Cullen raised his eyebrows at her, though he accepted. 

"Your breath smells like smoke," she amended, and he nodded. 

"I really don't smoke," he said, reaching for her once he'd popped the mint into his mouth.  "I did, as a recruit, but I haven't in years." 

She gave him a sideways look.  "You better not." 

"I would hate to have you think less of me," he told her seriously.  His brow furrowed as he leaned in to kiss her again.  Could this tiny thing be what screwed it all up?  It wasn't that he didn't expect it, he'd just been hoping to hold it together for longer than a week.  But her lips met his eagerly this time, and he sank into the kiss, feeling warmth engulf him.  Thank the Maker.  Talia's hands grasped his cheeks, pulling him into her, and he caught her lower back with his hands to keep her upright. 

"We're waiting on you," a voice called, and they broke apart, equally red-faced, to face Cassandra.  She made a disgusted noise and stomped back inside. 

Talia gave him a sly smile as she smoothed his hair.  "We should go," she said, smiling. 

He grabbed his suit jacket off the arm of the patio chair.  "Right behind you." 

They joined the others on the gravel driveway to listen to Harding go over the rules for their evening in Val Royeaux.  She discussed the same basics as last time – midnight curfew, no unauthorized guests, moderate alcohol, and so on – but added that she expected that no one get themselves arrested this time.  Talia ducked her head against Cullen’s shoulder when the tech glanced her way. 

Cullen wrapped his arm around her protectively, smiling all the while.  Though he truly didn’t want a repeat of the weeks before, including the revelations about his past, he couldn’t deny that he enjoyed her clinging to him.  Even once Harding’s lecture moved on to new topics, Talia didn’t move away, instead nestling into his shoulder with her arm around his waist.  This was exactly what he’d wished for on their last date night as he stood behind her, watching her giggle with Dorian with her hand in his elbow:  That instead she be with him, her hands touching his back, her laughter in his ear as they waited. 

His experiences over the years had never led him to any belief about his life being normal, and he’d long ago accepted that.  But Talia… she changed everything. 

He tightened his arm around her, pulling her closer to his side. With a quick glance, she smiled at him and pressed herself against him. 

She was the first person to ever make him think he could have a life outside his work.  Service had been everything to him since he’d been a child, when he’d begged his parents to let him train as a Templar.  Even after Kinloch, all he’d wanted to do was serve, and though he’d let his prejudices get in the way of goodness, that had still been his life. 

A hole he’d never before recognized had filled with their friendship, with how much he cared about her.  Even if this reality show experiment was only a fleeting moment in a life of hardship, he’d leave changed, and he’d have Talia Trevelyan to thank. 

For the first time, he wondered what would happen when the show was over.  Talia lived here in Val Royeaux, and Cullen’s home was Kirkwall, with his work.  How would they reconcile the great distance between them?  Would they agree to part, amicably but broken-hearted by something that couldn’t be sustained in the real world?

A shiver, this one uninspired by her touch, ran down his spine.  Maker, he hoped not. 

Before them, Harding finished up with the clear directive to “be safe out there” before she herded them toward the bus.  Talia broke away from his side, her hand finding his as they followed Dorian and Iron Bull.  Behind her, Cullen studied her back, the slope of her shoulders in the casual black dress she wore.  Most of her scars were covered tonight by the elbow-length sleeves of the outfit, but the skirt stopped several inches before her knees, revealing long, toned legs and crimson heels.  Though it was a change from her combat boots of the weeks before, he couldn’t deny his appreciation; she’d dressed up for him, just as he had for her, and he smiled as he pulled her back to him.  Wrapping his arm around her shoulders, he leaned in and kissed just behind her ear. 

“You look beautiful tonight,” he whispered, and felt her shiver. 

“Thank you,” she said demurely.  Her turn to climb into the bus had arrived, but she hesitated against him, her back flush with his chest. 

“Come along darling,” Dorian called from just inside the door, extending a hand toward her.  “Grope the officer later.”  He winked, and Cullen let her go quickly, blushing. 

Talia, however, turned and pressed a quick kiss to his lips.  “That’s an idea,” she murmured, her voice huskier than he’d ever heard it. 

He blushed further, feeling blood rush in other directions when she spun around and swung her hips as she climbed into the bus.  _Maker’s breath_. 

  The ride into Val Royeaux was long but uneventful, filled with Talia’s giggles as she and Dorian figured out where they were going.   She glanced at him several times as they planned across the aisle, and Cullen was grateful for his arm wrapped around her.   No doubt they had some master plan that would make him cringe upon its reveal, but she'd be there regardless.  He tried to sit back and relax, his eyes trailing lazily over the Orlesian countryside as they headed for the city.  The headache hadn't gotten any better, was in fact getting worse as they bumped over back roads, and watching everything move fast without focusing wasn't helping. 

A burst of particularly loud laughter came from beside him, and he glanced over in time to see Bull giving him an alarmed look over their companions' heads.  Cullen smirked.  At least he wouldn't be alone on this adventure tonight. 

  As he sat back, he tried to distract himself from the pounding inside his skull.  What would happen if it were just them tonight?   No companions, no cameramen following, just the two of them.  Likely they'd still go wherever she and Dorian had cooked up, but perhaps not.  Cullen pictured some tiny restaurant where they could hold hands and feed each other bites of dessert over candlelight, and he chuckled to himself at the thought.  It was about the most cliché romantic image he'd ever dreamed of, but for the first time, he could see the appeal in it. 

Perhaps their night wouldn't end there -- they could stroll through the streets of Val Royeaux hand in hand, marveling over all the things they'd seen before that were fresh again through the eyes of another.  They could trade kisses and laughter as they walked, just enjoying being together.  Maybe they'd wander through the gardens, alone but illuminated by the lamplight, and slip into one of those corners built by the Orlesians as places to kiss and be kissed, to press each other against the walls and cling to each other in passion that didn't have to be extinguished in the face of cameras. 

He exhaled deeply and leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes.  They'd talked a little about their past relationships the past few days, enough to know that neither had any serious relationships to brag about and both had less than stellar experiences introducing sex to any relationship.  Since they'd agreed not to rush things -- though Cullen wasn't honestly sure what rushing would be versus going slow -- they'd instead spent their time just enjoying being together, and he couldn't argue with the result.  Some of their intimacy was born of the reality show environment where they saw each other every day, he knew that, but the connection between them was real. 

It probably should have made Cullen nervous, to know that neither of them had any real experience with this, but it didn't.  Quite the opposite:  He felt better knowing that both of them were basically clueless.  They were on equal ground here, figuring things out as they went.  He had no idea if that would translate into an actual relationship or if it meant they'd probably crash and burn before the show ended in six weeks, but at least they'd have the chance to find out. 

He leaned down and kissed her shoulder as the bus finally slowed just outside the main square of the city.   Her arm came up to loop around his neck, holding him close as Harding reiterated the rules one last time.  From the back of the bus, he heard clicking and grumbles as the techs fiddled with the cameras that would follow them around for the evening. 

And then they were free, filing off the bus with cameramen in tow as they headed into downtown Val Royeaux.  Dorian and Talia led the way, strolling arm in arm while they chatted, and Cullen followed behind with Bull, more amused than anything else.  There was something freeing about being together, the ease of being able to look at her and smile and feel at peace without worrying about who might be watching. 

Though of course, Bull still was.  "Hey, Cullen," he chuckled, giving him a push that nearly sent him stumbling.  "Congrats." 

He glanced up at Bull, distracted.  "Hm?" 

"I see that look," the big qunari said casually.  "You're happy, even if the lyrium is getting worse." 

Cullen didn't know how to respond to that.  He hadn't told anyone it was getting worse, even refusing to admit it to Cassandra or Talia.  The prospect filled him with dread, to admit such weakness.  "I am fine, Bull," he said stiffly. 

The qunari chuckled.  "You don't have to be tough for me, Cullen.  I can see it in your face.  You aren't sleeping.  You aren't shaving.  You've lost weight." 

"I have not."  Like his conversations with Cassandra, denial was his only option. 

"Avoid it all you like," Bull said quietly.  "But I'll listen, if you want to talk about it." 

Cullen considered this.  Among all the people in the house, Bull was easily the most trustworthy, other than the obvious two.  And he knew a little about Cullen's history, which was more than even Talia could say, and he was still willing to be there for him.  It struck him that they'd developed a friendship, he and Bull, and he hadn't really noticed. 

Perhaps it was time enough to let someone else into his life again. 

"I… yes."  He took a deep breath before settling his gaze on Talia, who was giggling with Dorian ahead of them.  "I find… that I don't want to worry her." 

"So you don't tell her," Bull finished for him, and Cullen nodded.  The weight of all that he still kept from her settled in his gut, and not for the first time, he considered how easily he could ruin everything.  "She'd want to know, I think," Bull said when he didn't respond immediately. 

Cullen wasn't so sure.  "Perhaps," he said.  He tried to shrug, but the movement of his shoulders sent tension up his neck that made his headache throb again. 

Bull gave him a sideways look as they followed their companions.  "She does know about the lyrium, right?" 

Cullen nodded.  The cameramen suddenly seemed too close behind him, the pressure and inevitable failure of what he was trying to do too much to talk about with the whole of Thedas watching.  "About three weeks ago.  She… was worried."  The memory of her arms around him floated to the surface, and he let the warmth, the support, of that moment envelop him.  "But I don't want to make it worse for her." 

Bull threw the cameramen a look before he leaned down, prompting Cullen to maneuver to avoid his horns.  "You should tell her before it gets bad enough that you can't handle it alone," he suggested in such a low voice that Cullen almost didn't catch it. 

But he did, and the reminder of how close to failure he walked made him recoil. 

"I must do this alone, Bull."  He'd made the argument before, and he'd make it again: This was his burden to bear, his past, and no one else's.   He didn't want help, at least no more than what Cassandra foisted on him. 

The big qunari's hand closed over his shoulder, drawing him to a halt.  He looked down at Cullen seriously, that one grey eye trained on his.  "Alone is how you fail, Cullen.  I know you don't want to hear it, but it's the truth."  He glanced at Talia, her head thrown back in laughter.  "For your sake and hers, tell her." 

His face contorted with anger, that same reaction that always came over him when someone tried to put him in situations like this.  "Tell her what?  That I can't walk some days? That memories of mages who died because of me haunt my dreams?  She'd hate me for it." 

Bull waited until he was finished before he spoke.  "Give her a chance.  If you did once, she can handle it again." 

The thought of admitting what he'd done, what had happened to him, was perhaps the thing Cullen feared most in the world.  But his head hurt too much to allow for further anger, and he swallowed it back down, willing it to dissipate.  That was part of what he was trying to leave behind.  "I cannot.  It's… too much to ask someone else to carry." 

Bull continued to stare at him.  "The load only lightens if you share it." 

Cullen lifted his chin defiantly.  "And what if it's too much?" 

The smallest of smirks slide across the qunari's face.  "For her?  It won't be."  He dropped his hand as though that settled everything and kept walking, leaving Cullen behind. 

For a minute, he didn't follow.  Bull had offered him little that any other therapist or expert had not said to him previously, before he left the Templars.  But that was another life, one he was trying to leave behind and make anew, one he wanted to forget but also one that had shaped him into the man he was today. 

And that advice had come before anyone had wanted to truly know that man, to share the new life he wanted to build. 

Maybe Bull was right. 

He didn't have the chance to question the qunari further though, for as soon as he jogged to catch up, Bull turned a gave him that odd one-eyed wink.  "Your girl's ditched you for long enough," he said before he reached for his hand. 

Cullen studied this development for a moment. 

Then that big voice of Bull's rang out, pitched to carry to their companions ahead.  "Well, if she won't hold your hand, I'll do it!"  He shot Cullen a grin when Talia spun. 

"Hey!"  She yelped, immediately moving to break Bull's grip on Cullen's arm.  "Hands off, he's mine."  Cullen blushed as Bull dutifully backed away, his hands up in a gesture of surrender. 

"Didn't mean to intrude," he said innocently.  "Just didn't think Cullen was getting the attention he deserves." 

Talia made a face before shooing Bull up toward Dorian, who was watching with one eyebrow cocked at them.  When he shrugged again and turned his back, she immediately grabbed Cullen by the shirt collar and pulled him down to meet her. 

"I certainly didn’t mean to neglect you," she murmured, giving him a sultry look, and he slid his arms around her to pull her to him. 

"It has been lonely back here," he replied, doing his best to look plaintive and pathetic. 

"Well we can't have that," she purred before she pressed a warm, open-mouthed kiss to his lips.   His eyes rolled up in his head at the touch of her lips and he opened his mouth to meet her, wanting to devour her here in the streets.   His hand rose to cup her head, adjusting for a better angle as he felt her tongue tangle with his, and heat rolled over his body. 

"Now look what you've done," Dorian grumbled off to the side, but Bull just laughed.  "Come on now, you two, I'm starving," he continued.  Cullen reluctantly pulled away, knowing there was lipstick on his face and not caring in the slightest. 

Talia smirked up at him before wiping a touch of it from his lips.  "Come on," she whispered, that spark still lingering in her eyes as she tucked her hand in his.  "There'll be time for that later." 

Later.  The word rang with promise, with a future, and Cullen realized Bull was right.  He wanted everything that future might hold, both for his own life and with her. 

He had to tell her.  Everything, even if it scared him.  He just needed the chance. 

\---

He never did get it.  But to his surprise, Cullen didn't mind all that much. 

The four of them ducked into a bar soon after, settling down into a booth in the midst of music and dancing that had Talia and Dorian exchanging excited glances.  Pub food and beer all around came next, and they spent their meal discussing the drama of their housemates.  Bull apparently found Cassandra's reputation as a dragon-slayer -- however metaphorical the dragons might be -- extremely attractive, a quality that had Talia dying with laughter while Dorian steadily kicked the big qunari under the table.   Talia wanted to know if Sera was actually as horny as she appeared, judging from the sounds coming from her room,  or if she was just trying to piss Vivienne off, and Dorian started plotting new ways to irritate the cold enchantress almost immediately, Bull offering him a saucy wink as encouragement. 

Cullen stayed mostly quiet as they talked and ate.  His headache made the ale he was drinking seem that much stronger, and he didn't have the stomach for much of his burger or fries.  Talia, however, was nestled into his side, one leg thrown over his knee under the table, and he found that he didn’t mind that much either. 

For the first time, his life seemed normal -- laughing with friends drinking beer in a pub, a girlfriend by his side and a smile on his face.  It was so unlike anything he'd ever experienced that he couldn't help but sit back and enjoy it. 

The cameramen hovering anxiously nearby trying to get every possible word of their conversation shattered the illusion somewhat, but even that didn't bother him much tonight. 

As soon as their food was cleared away, Dorian effortlessly produced a round of shots.  He and Talia hooted as they downed theirs, but Cullen slid his across the table to Bull, who nodded in thanks before tipping both into his mouth at once.  Even this he didn't mind; he was often the designated driver for his precinct buddies if the evening called for it. 

He did mind the pounding bass of the latest pop hit that suddenly blasted over the speakers around them, and he definitely minded the high-pitched squeals that Dorian and Talia let out. 

"Maker," he hissed between clenched teeth. 

Opposite him, Bull made an elaborate cringing face.  "What the fuck, Dorian?" 

"I thought you quite liked my enthusiasm for pounding things," Dorian quipped as Talia dragged him onto the dance floor, blowing Cullen a kiss over her shoulder as she went.  He watched her go, surprised to find that he didn't mind being left behind.  The booth was wide enough for him to sit sideways and put his feet up, yet close enough to the dancing that he could still see her perfectly. 

And now that he'd finally kissed her, watching her dance seemed far less lewd that it might have. 

Bull arranged himself similarly opposite the booth, a stein of what smelled like maraas-lok clutched in one hand. 

"How can you drink that swill?"  Cullen asked casually, and Bull grinned behind his mug. 

"It's good for you," he answered.  "Puts some chest on your chest.  You want some? I'll buy." 

Cullen chuckled.  "I'm fine, thanks." 

"Let me know," he replied.  "I'll definitely pay to watch a former Templar get fucked up on this shit." 

"Good to know."  They lapsed into companionable silence for a while, both studying their significant others as they danced and raved to whatever it was that passed for music in Val Royeaux.  But before long, they started chatting over combat techniques and weapons proficiencies, and Cullen was once again hit with the realization that they were actually friends.  He was grateful, he realized.  This kind of life was nice. 

To his immense relief, their conversation did not turn serious again.  Instead, though they weaved in and out of talking and watching, Bull told him about his various jobs as a bodyguard, and Cullen entertained him with stories of weird crimes and arrests that he'd seen throughout his years in Kirkwall.  It made for good casual conversation, interesting enough that the cameramen listened but not so much that Cullen worried about revealing anything too personal. 

Out on the dance floor, Dorian kept making kissy faces at them, and when neither responded, he and Talia came over to investigate. 

"Cullen, come dance with me," Talia implored, climbing over his legs to sit in his lap.  Cullen wrapped his arms around her waist as she knelt over him and grinned up at her. 

"I am a terrible dancer, I'm afraid," he said, giving her an affectionate squeeze in apology.  "Dorian will serve you better as a partner." 

She glanced at the mage, who was currently attempting to suck the lips off Iron Bull.  "You know, I rather doubt that," she said suggestively. 

Cullen chuckled.  "That's… not exactly what I meant." 

"Well, as long as you aren't suggesting you don't want to do _that_ with me…"  She trailed off, pouting at him as a surge of heat went straight to his cock. 

"Maker, no.  That I'm very interested in.  I mean… not that I'm in a rush, or that I just want… Andraste's sake, will you stop teasing me?"  He grumbled as he saw the smile that crept across her face. 

She leaned down and pecked his lips, inadvertently giving him a look straight down her dress.  Luckily he was already blushing.  "Never," she breathed in his ear, the tip of her tongue darting out to brush his skin.  He shivered. 

"Talia, dear, what did I say about groping the officer?"  Dorian interrupted, and Talia turned, nearly smacking him in the face with her chest.  Opposite them, Bull chuckled into his drink. 

"Like you have any room to talk," she told him, climbing off Cullen in the process.  He immediately missed her warmth in his arms.  Turning back to him, she smiled.  "You sure you won't come dance?" 

"Come on, Cullen," Dorian added, his eyes lighting up.  "You can do the standard straight man dance."  He demonstrated, stepping back and forth as he snapped his fingers at his waist.

Talia looked unconvinced. 

"I'm… not certain I can do even that," Cullen replied.  He picked up his beer, giving Talia an apologetic look, and she laughed. 

"I'm getting you on that dance floor," she called before she turned, swaying her hips as she left.  Dorian gave her ass a significant look before turning the same look to Cullen, shaking his head as he followed. 

"Tasty," Bull muttered, his eyes glued to Talia.  "How did you manage that?" 

He should have felt protective, but something akin to pride swam through his chest.  "I have no idea," he admitted.  "But I'm going to do whatever it takes not to mess it up." 

They walked the two of them dance for a moment before Bull said, "You know you're going to have to dance with her then, right?" 

"Maker's breath," he groaned, sliding down in his seat.  He hadn't been lying about his dancing skills -- they were nonexistent at best -- but he hated the idea of disappointing her. 

It didn’t help that she was a pretty good dancer.  Her body moved naturally, rolling her hips and shoulders to the beat of the song, and he blushed as it brought far more intimate activities to mind.      

But that was a line of thinking for another time.  "You don't think I can beg off, say I don't feel well?"  He ventured to Bull, and the big man snorted. 

"It's the truth, sure, but is this the moment you're choosing to wuss out?  30, even 50 squats, fine, but you can't manage a little dancing?" 

"All right, just… stop talking," he grumbled and knocked back the rest of his ale.  He watched her laugh and smile as she danced, wondering how he could pull this off.  The freedom to just look at her, without worrying that someone would catch him or that Talia might somehow judge him, felt so good, so perfect.  She wanted to be with him, and that was more than enough for him to do anything he could to make her happy. 

He couldn't give in, not now -- Bull was right.  A dance floor could not be the thing to defeat him, and he would not let his struggle jeopardize anything to do with Talia. 

So when Dorian sauntered over a few minutes later, Cullen was ready. 

"I requested a song for you," the mage announced, reaching for Bull's drink and making a horrified face at what he found.  "And when it comes on, you're going to dance with her." 

"He is?"  Talia asked, appearing from nowhere. 

"Absolutely," Dorian said, giving Cullen a significant look. 

With a smile, Cullen nodded.  "Yep.  But I… can't guarantee how good I'll be." 

An enormous smile spread across her face, lighting up her eyes.  "I don't care how good you are as long as you're with me," she said earnestly, and though Dorian mimed throwing up into Bull's drink, Cullen's heart swelled. 

He maneuvered out of the booth, intending to pull her into his arms for a kiss, but the opening guitar lines of a new song poured out of the speakers, and Talia's face lit up. 

"Maker, is this -- it is!"  She spun, giving Dorian a shove.  "You?" 

"Have fun, darling," he said.  Catching Cullen's eye, he jerked his head at the dance floor, but Cullen hesitated. 

"Wait, I don't know this --"  Talia grabbed his hand, tugging him after her.

"Listen to the lyrics," she shouted over her shoulder as he followed her.    

"What?"  But he caught the next line, something about 'shut up and dance,' and he had to smile.  She had him there. 

Everything was awkward for a moment when he caught up to her.  He didn't know where to put his hands or what to do with his feet, but Talia only laughed and pressed herself closer until they were chest to chest. 

"You know how to fence, right," she said, and he looked quizzically at her. 

"Yes…"  What did that have to do with anything?

"So you know how to use your body.  So just," She reached around him, grabbing his ass and yanking him against her.  "Just let go, and follow me."  She writhed against him, sensuous but not raunchy, and suddenly this dancing thing didn't seem so impossible.  With a smirk, he slid his own arms around her, resting his hands low on her back so he could feel her hips move. 

"I could get to like this," he murmured with a low rumble, and her eyes lit up. 

"I hope so."  The beat of the song didn't allow for such closeness, but as she moved, Cullen found it easy enough to follow the movement of her hips and the roll of her shoulders.  His movements were stiff -- more so than hers, for sure -- but she was singing along and smiling, exactly what he'd hoped for. 

As he danced (or tried to), he couldn't help listening to the lyrics of the song.  Most of what got played in bars he never liked, but he actually enjoyed this one, and he had to give Dorian credit; the man had chosen the perfect song.  Every time the chorus shouted "Shut up and dance with me!" Talia made sure to lean into him, her lips seeking his but never quite making contact as she sang along. Warmth ran over him as her hands never left him, roaming along his back or arms even as she spun in place, and the hints of a future the song implied made his heart beat faster at each repetition. 

As the bridge wound down, Talia spun right into his arms, her hands buried in his hair and her eyes glued to his as she sang along.  "Deep in your eyes, I think I see a future… I don't know how it happened…"  Her eyes drifted closed as she moved gently in his arms, and he wished he could hang on to this moment forever. 

But the chorus repeated again, gentler this time, and her eyes slid open with a sultry smile as she joined in, still singing to him.  "Don't you dare look back, just keep your eyes on me… shut up and dance with me!"  Cullen had heard it repeated enough times now to know, and he kept her flush against him, singing, "This woman is my destiny" right back to her before he leaned in, kissing her hard on the mouth. 

He didn't know if it was true; he didn't even know if he believed in destiny.  But this… this was important to him.  She mattered, in a way he'd never expected to find, and if this was the only way he could tell her yet, he would take the chance. 

To his delight, she kissed him just as eagerly, her tongue immediately snaking out to tangle with his as he moved gently against her.  It wasn't quite the same level of dancing ability he'd shown before -- not that that had been much -- but the movement was enough to let him feel her breasts pressed into his chest, his arousal against her hips, and she pushed back just as insistently.

It was almost a relief when the chorus swelled again, as Cullen wasn't sure how much longer he could maintain something like control.  The sudden pounding beat brought them back to their surroundings: a bar in Val Royeaux, surrounded by people as well as their friends, and cameramen all around to keep an eye on them, and they stepped a little apart, his face flushed.  Talia avoided his eyes a little as her dancing picked up speed again, her cheeks red too, but he grabbed her hips to keep her close. 

"You're holding back," he sang at her softly, and when she laughed, the awkwardness abandoned them.  They danced together a little longer, and while Cullen was glad the song was winding down, he couldn't deny that the risk had been worth it to feel her in his arms, to dance with her and hold her close and even give up a little of his heart, even if it was just through song lyrics. 

She kissed him again just as it ended, the bass lines of another song booting up in the background.  "You lied about your dancing abilities," she teased when their lips parted, and Cullen smirked. 

"Maybe you just bring that out in me," he said, leaning against her. 

"Mm, maybe," she answered as she sank against his chest.  He wrapped her up, letting her relax into him as he held her, and silently he thanked the Maker for giving him this chance. 

The headache he'd been fighting off throbbed back into being as the new song intensified. Cullen fought it as long as he could, hoping he could just stand there and hold her a little longer, but he couldn't manage; an involuntary groan slid out as some kind of high-pitched synthesizer kicked in and drilled straight into his brain. 

"Cullen, you okay," Talia asked, and the cool touch of her hand on his skin made him open his eyes.  He hadn't even realized he'd closed them, his face suddenly twisted in pain. 

"What?  Yes, I'm fine," he said, but he could hear the growl in his voice. 

Talia could too.  "Come on, let's sit," she said, lacing their fingers and pulling them back to the booth.  He sat down harder than he meant to, the bar spinning around him now as the headache that had been annoying now morphed into a full-on migraine.  Talia slid in beside him, her arm around his shoulders in support.  "Dorian, can you get him…"  She trailed off, unsure what would help, and he hated how suddenly helpless he was. 

"An ice water," Bull interjected, and Dorian, looking concerned, scurried off.  Cullen barely registered the exchange, his head in his hands and his eyes clenched shut. 

"Cullen, are you okay?"  Talia leaned her head on his shoulders, and to his shame, Cullen shrugged her off.  Everything hurt.  Pain throbbed in time to whatever song was playing, the colorful lights that scanned over the dance floor suddenly piercing to his sensitive eyes.  He couldn't see, couldn't think, and for a second, he thought he might throw up. 

Something cool slid across the back of his neck, and a wave of relief washed over him.  "There, that better?"  Talia asked from somewhere very far away.  He managed a nod.  It wasn't perfect, the pain still tingling along his nerves, but cold helped.  "I think he has a fever," Talia said somewhere, maybe to Iron Bull, and he heard the bodyguard mumble in response as everything went dark. 

He must have slept for a while after that.  When he woke, the world swam back into focus, and he was on the shuttle again, everything bouncing gently as they rode back to the house. There was still something cool on his burning skin, and someone was gently scratching his scalp as they ran their fingers through his hair. 

With a groan, he tried to maneuver to sitting, but an enormous hand on his shoulder stopped him.  "Just rest, big guy," Iron Bull's gravelly voice rumbled.  "She's got you." 

He craned his neck to see that he was lying with his head in Talia's lap, his legs up on the seats in the back row of the shuttle.  She smiled down at him. 

"Hey you," she said softly, and he vaguely registered that her voice was shaking a little.  "I couldn't find Cassandra, but we're taking you home so you can rest."  Her other hand rested on his side, her elbow curled around his shoulder. 

"Talia," he croaked out, and she produced a water bottle from nowhere.  Cullen sat up enough to sip before exhaustion and pain overtook him again.  "What happened?"  he asked when he was lying down again. 

"You passed out," Iron Bull said.  Cullen could just see him sitting in the row in front of them, Dorian beside him.  The mage wiggled his fingers at Cullen, though something like fear lined his face too.  "We got you back on the bus without too much trouble though." 

"And date night?" 

Talia's hand paused in his hair and she leaned down to kiss his temple.  "We were a little too worried to keep dancing," she attempted to tease.  If he tried, he could hear the strain in her voice. 

He turned into her as his stomach roiled, his face pressed against her leg, and managed what could have been a kiss.  It was the only part of her he had the strength to reach.  "I'm so sorry," he whispered. 

"It's okay," she told him.  Her fingers continued to rake through his hair, gentle tingles following her touch that distracted him from the throbbing that kept on.  "I knew what I was getting into." 

_She has no idea,_ Cullen thought as his eyes grew heavy.  He managed to get a "thank you" out, feeling her hand squeeze his, before he again succumbed to the blissful darkness of sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song is "Shut up and Dance" by Walk the Moon, which is my latest guilty pleasure. Link here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6JCLY0Rlx6Q 
> 
> Sorry if it's cheesy, I couldn't resist :D


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> triggers for seizures and hospitals this chapter. sorry for the spoilers

Talia slept on the floor of Cullen's bedroom that night.  A hard floor and a stolen pillow did not make for a comfortable bed, but after the evening they'd had, she didn't want to leave him alone.  The incident in the bar had been a little scary -- one minute he was holding her, the next nearly unconscious with pain.  She knew he got migraines, knew they knocked him out for days sometimes, but she'd never seen that happen to him before. 

And of course, she had no idea where Cassandra had gone off to for the evening, so she couldn't ask the Seeker for help.  Thank the Maker they'd done a double date with Bull and Dorian; she would never have been able to get Cullen back to the shuttle by herself. 

Though he'd mostly been sleeping on the ride back, Cullen was almost comatose by the time they reached Skyhold.  Bull had to actually carry him inside, Talia following nervously.  Together they'd gotten his shoes and dress shirt off and tucked him into his bed with only a sheet for a blanket.  His skin was on fire, flushed and sweating even with the cold handkerchief she'd been keeping on his forehead or neck.  She sat for hours by his bedside, trying to comfort him when he moaned or running her hands through his hair to calm him through his nightmares. 

She'd never seen him like this in all the time they'd spent in Skyhold, and it was terrifying. 

In the middle of the night, when she still hadn't gone to bed and Cullen's fever hadn't broken, Cassandra finally came home. 

"Dorian told me what happened," the Seeker said before Talia could explain.  "Why don't you go change?  I'll sit with him for a while." 

She hesitated.  "I don't want to leave him." 

Cassandra waved her off.  "Blackwall's still not back, so you can sleep in here.  I'll find some blankets while you change, and you can stay with him after that." 

Talia nodded, studying the Seeker's dark expression as she watched Cullen's sleeping form.  He was still twitching and moaning, his skin flushed but no longer sweaty.  "Call me if anything happens?" 

Cassandra gave her a nod.  "Of course." 

She changed quickly, tossing her dress aside and throwing herself into her pajamas.  Her stuffed mabari came with her, a tiny bit of comfort, and she remembered to grab the pillow off her bed on her way back. 

Nothing had changed, not that she'd expected much.  "Is he okay, Cassandra?" 

The Seeker hesitated to speak as she handed over a stack of blankets.  "I'm… not sure.  Giving up lyrium is inherently risky, as I'm sure he told you.  No one has ever done it before." 

Talia's eyes nearly bugged out of her head.  "No one?  Like… he's the first? What usually happens?" 

"Most give up before it gets this bad," she admitted. 

Talia glanced at Cullen sprawled across the bed.  "He said that some go crazy and some die."  Cassandra nodded but did not reply.  "Andraste save him, will he… what's going to happen?" 

"I don't know."  She hugged Talia suddenly, and tears welled up in her eyes with the kindness.  "He'll be okay.  Just come get me if he wakes during the night." 

"Okay," Talia replied, nodding shakily. 

"And try to sleep." 

"Okay."  The taller woman stepped back, avoiding her eyes awkwardly, and left.  Alone now, Talia attempted to make her spot on the floor a little more comfortable.  What she really wanted was to cuddle up in bed with Cullen, to lay beside him and hold him and tell him everything was going to be okay, even if she wasn't sure.  But his fever was too high for any kind of contact like that. Hours ago, Dorian had enchanted a washcloth so it would stay cold against his fiery skin, but even that didn't seem to be helping.  Instead he shivered and moaned as he struggled through whatever dreams haunted him, and even though she wanted to be closer to him, she kept herself away. 

She settled for bedding down on the floor.   Her whole body felt tired, worn down with dancing and worry, but even so, it took hours before the sounds of his nightmares quieted enough that she could fall asleep. 

\---

Sunlight streaming through the blinds finally woke Talia the next morning.  That in itself was unusual; the blinds in her room were closed and covered so she could sleep.  But a quick glance around the room reminded her that she wasn’t in her room, and with a gasp like a static shock, she remembered why. 

She stumbled out of her make-shift bed and over to Cullen's side.  Still sleeping, he was breathing hard and his face was flushed, much darker than it had been last night.  Cautiously she laid a hand to his forehead;  his fever was up again, higher than it had been the night before, and he moaned softly in his sleep. 

"Hey Cullen," she said softly, a hand on his shoulder.  He didn't respond.  "Cullen, sweetie, can you hear me?"  She jostled him a little, and he groaned but didn't wake.  The cloth Dorian had enchanted was still cool, so she shifted it to his forehead, hoping that might calm his agony.  "Hey, you probably need water," she tried again.  "I'll get it, but you have to wake up." 

He still didn't respond. 

A nervous feeling settled in the pit of her stomach.  The clock on his bedside table said it was nearly eight am, much later than she'd meant to get up so she could update Cassandra.  And Cullen had been unconscious much longer than seemed safe, even to her very untrained eyes.  Something was wrong. 

She hurriedly tied her hair back in a ponytail and went to find Cassandra. 

The Seeker was pacing in the living room.  "Is he okay?"  She asked immediately.  "I assumed he'd sleep in, but I admit, I am worried." 

Talia didn’t know how to answer.  "He won't wake up," she began, and the Seeker's eyes went wide. 

"Show me," she said before Talia could add anything else.  Dorian opened his door as they headed back down the hall. 

"Is he better?"  Talia just shook her head, and the mage fell into step beside her. 

They stood to the side as Cassandra looked Cullen over.  She made minute adjustments to his blankets and pillows but otherwise just fussed as he shivered and groaned.  Finally she turned to them.  "It is unusual that we cannot wake him.  And his fever is… high."  She glanced away, avoiding Talia's eyes for a moment before looking back with a grimace.  "We should consider getting him to a hospital." 

"Oh Maker," Talia mumbled, her hands over her mouth. 

"Dorian, will you find Varric?  He can call Leliana."  The mage nodded and immediately left.  Cassandra turned to Talia.  "I'm going to get him some water and an ice pack for his forehead.  Will you sit with him?"  She was speaking slowly, yet Talia still only barely understood her. 

"Of course," she nodded, edging closer to Cullen's side.  The Seeker squeezed her shoulder as she passed.  Carefully Talia maneuvered so she could sit without crowding him and took his hand.  It was hot like the rest of him, his skin clammy. 

"Hey there," she said softly, knowing her voice was shaking.  "I… don't know what to say.  I'm scared.  I want you to be okay."  She lifted his hand to her lips and pressed a kiss to his knuckles.  "Please be okay."  He groaned again, shifting in the bed, and for a second Talia thought the Maker might have heard her. 

Then the muscles in his arm went stiff. 

His eyes opened under the compress, unfocused and wide before they rolled up in his head.  "Cullen?  Cullen!"  Talia leaned over him only to realize his whole body had gone stiff.  The veins and tendons stood out in his neck and along his jaw, and he started shaking. 

"Cassandra!"  She heard herself scream as though from far away, and seconds later when the Seeker sprinted in, she could only back away in terror, her hands clamped to her mouth.  Cassandra was shouting for Varric to call an ambulance, her hands fighting to keep Cullen on the bed as he convulsed.  Talia was vaguely aware that someone was hugging her, their arms latched tight around her waist, before her vision went blurry and she realized she was crying. 

The seizure was over within seconds.  Cullen's body relaxed back onto the bed, his eyes closed again, and Cassandra turned to Talia.  "Can you get more ice?" 

Dorian disengaged himself from around her.  "I'll get it.  Give her something to do."  He was talking about her. 

She took a deep breath, as deep as she could manage against her sobs, and said, "Please, Cass."  The Seeker waved her forward. 

"Just sit with him.  Keep the compress on his forehead."  She passed Talia the ice pack she'd gone to get; it was only half-filled.  "Dorian will bring more.  We have to keep his fever low until they get here."  Talia nodded shakily as she listened before she knelt beside Cullen's bed.  The Seeker moved out of the way so she could take his hands, holding them both as tight as she could. 

"Please be okay," Talia whispered as she leaned her forehead against his.  Even with the cold rag between their skin, she could feel how hot he was.  "Please." 

She sat that way until Cassandra and Dorian returned carrying ice packs and an enchanted blanket.  Carefully they maneuvered Cullen until they could get his shirt off -- though they had to slice it open up the back so they didn't move his head or spine, just in case.  When the rags of it lay only under his side, they quickly wrapped him up to try to keep him cool.  But fear squeezed her heart to see his chest and abs painted in vibrant red with fever.  The scars across his back were nearly purple as he suffered. 

"Oh Maker, Cullen, what's happened to you," she whispered as she leaned her forehead back against his.  The blanket would keep him cool at least, the frost enchantment strong, but it wouldn't be enough if they couldn't get him to a hospital. 

"I'm going to check with Varric," Cassandra said.  "Dorian, stay with them."  She left.  Dorian sat on Blackwall's bed to wait. 

Talia ignored him.  She ignored everyone, her attention focused only on Cullen's contorted, unconscious face as he groaned and muttered.  Words slipped through his lips, something about mages and demons and masks, and she could only imagine what horrors he'd seen to haunt him so.  Cupping his face in one hand, she prayed to a Maker she wasn't sure she believed in to help him. 

Finally, after what seemed like a never-ending delay, the paramedics arrived.  One of them gently moved Talia out of the way as they checked Cullen's blood pressure, pulse, and a host of other vital signs before they loaded him onto a stretcher. 

"Where is he going," Talia asked, following them nervously down the hall toward Skyhold's front entrance, and Cassandra answered. 

"We're going to Val Royeaux General," she said, grabbing Talia's arm.  "Leliana will be here in a few minutes to take you and Dorian, and you'll meet us there." 

"I can't go with you?"  That seemed wrong somehow. 

"I have his power of attorney, so I have to go."  The Seeker caught Talia's face in her hands, forcing her to meet her eyes instead of staring at Cullen lying in the back of the ambulance.  "You need to change and bring an overnight bag.  Don't worry about Cullen's things, we'll figure that out later.  Leliana will bring you to see him right away." 

"Miss, are you coming?"  Called one of the paramedics, and Cassandra yelled, "Right away," over her shoulder. 

"Do you understand?"  She said to Talia, and though her heart was pounding, she nodded. 

"Clothes, bag, and Leliana will take me to the hospital."  This was too much.  How could this be happening? 

"Good.  He'll be fine, trust me," Cassandra said swiftly, and then she was gone, climbed into the ambulance, and it wailed off into the streets. 

\---

Talia waited in the emergency room for hours after Leliana dropped she and Dorian off at the hospital.  He sat nearby reading a book, his brow furrowed, but other than a quick check-in every few minutes, he left her alone. 

She paced. 

None of the nurses or healers knew anything about Cullen's condition; most brushed her out of the way to tend to other patients.  One took pity on her, explaining that since she wasn't family, she unfortunately had no rights to visit him until he or a representative consented.  She was sympathetic to Talia's plight, offering her a pillow so she could sleep in the waiting room or a cup of coffee, but that was all. 

So Talia paced. 

Hours passed.  Dorian fell asleep upright in his chair, his chin against his chest.  Exhaustion floated on the edges of Talia's awareness, hinting that perhaps she too could sleep if she could just quiet the energy in her limbs.  But she couldn't.  She'd chewed her nails to nubs, even though she didn't normally bite her nails, and her calves screamed for her to sit and try to relax.  But she couldn't. 

She could only pace, and think. 

The same question rolled through her mind over and over with no respite: Was he okay?  She didn't know, couldn't know, without someone to tell her.  He'd been sick in the house before, and Talia knew lyrium withdrawal was dangerous and taxing.  What she hadn't known was how bad it would be.

_Some warning would have been nice_ , she thought angrily, but she couldn't latch onto the feeling to use it for fuel.  It slipped through her grasp like water through a sieve, leaving her hollow and cold.  Maybe Cullen didn't trust her enough to tell her.  Maybe Cassandra didn't.  Something told her that wasn't the case though; she'd felt close to Cullen from their first weeks in the house, and he'd confided that he felt the same. 

_Maybe he was trying to protect me._   That might make sense.  He'd done so much to take care of her in their short time together; this was likely no different. 

Still, she wished she could ask him.  She wanted to talk to him.  More than anything, she wanted him to be okay. 

"Excuse me, miss?"  That friendly nurse tapped her shoulder, giving her a small smile.  "You can see him now." 

"What?  What changed," Talia asked, gathering up her stuff and shoving Dorian rudely awake. 

The nurse gestured to a doorway where Cassandra stood.  "The healers sent her to get you."  Talia was already there, grabbing Cassandra's arm in her haste. 

"Is he okay?  Cass, is he all right?" 

Cassandra gave the nurse a tight smile and a thank you nod before she led Talia to the elevators.  "He's resting now."  She punched in a number and the doors dinged shut. 

"Maker, woman, is he all right?"  Dorian snapped, and Talia was sure she'd never been so grateful for anyone. 

"It's hard to say," Cassandra admitted, and Talia's heart clenched.  "He's stable now, and they got his fever down to 101.8." 

"That's pretty high," Talia murmured. 

The Seeker nodded.  "It was over 104 when we got here.  That's what caused the seizure." 

"What else?" 

"Otherwise, they aren't really sure.  He's still unconscious, and they're still trying to bring his fever down.  He was severely dehydrated as well, and very likely in pain from the withdrawal, so they've got him hooked up to an IV."  The doors dinged again, opening to a long, brightly lit hallway.  The group walked in silence, following Cassandra as she moved with her typical collected stance.  Around them, nurses and healers moved or discussed issues, the smell of disinfectant everywhere as they made yet another turn. 

Talia tried not to think as they walked.  It had been years since she'd been in a hospital, and the day her brother died was not one she wanted to relive.  Her own injuries had been treated in urgent cares and veterinary basements for most of her life; she'd never wanted to set foot in a hospital again if she could manage it.  They made her feel so small, powerless, and she hated it. 

Then they turned into Cullen's room, and her mind went blank. 

"Venhedis," Dorian breathed. 

He was lying in a hospital bed, his face white under the oxygen mask they'd secured over his nose and mouth. A long tube extended from one arm to the fluids bag hanging nearby, while a nurse stood over him taking blood samples from the other arm.  His gown was drenched with sweat, ice packs tucked under his armpits to bring down his temperature.  A mess of wires had been attached under the gown, and a screen next to his bed beeped periodically. 

Cassandra walked straight to that screen and inspected it, instantly businesslike.  "His fever is down, thank the Maker," she told them.  "And his blood pressure is improving."  She glanced over her shoulder and found Talia and Dorian still standing in the doorway.  "Aren't you going to come inside?" 

Dorian shook his head abruptly.  "I'd rather hear from the healer how he's doing," he suggested. 

The nurse looked up.  "I can fetch him," he volunteered, and Cassandra thanked him quickly and followed him out. 

"Sit with him, please," she said to Talia.  "I'll be back in a minute with an update."  They left her still standing in the doorway, immobile. 

_I should move_ , she registered vaguely, but her legs were unresponsive.  "Maker, I can't," she breathed, her hands too tight around the strap of her bag. 

In the bed, Cullen groaned and fidgeted, the mask fogging with his breath, and suddenly going to him was easy.  "Hey, I'm here," she said as she sat beside him, her bag abandoned on the floor.  "You're safe, it's okay."  She felt for his hand carefully, nervous about dislodging whatever tubes were hooked up to him, and gently lifted it to her lips.  "I'm here, I'm not going anywhere."  

With shaking hands, she brushed his hair off his forehead and straightened the blanket across his waist.  The machines around him beeped, reminding her that she still didn't know if he was going to be okay, so she read everything and tried to remember what each number meant.  Some, like his oxygen, were easy -- _Close to 100 is good, right? So 98 has to be good_ \-- but she was pretty sure his pulse should be lower than 93 and frankly had no idea what healthy blood pressure was.  His temperature had dropped to 101.2, still high but far better than… _had Cassandra said over 104_?  She couldn't remember. 

Admitting defeat, she smoothed his blanket again and sat back down, immediately taking his hand.  She propped her elbows up on the bed, rubbing circles into his skin with her thumbs, and tried to pray. 

When that didn't work, she talked to Cullen instead.  "Can you hear me?"  He didn't respond, and she shook her head.  Of course not, he was unconscious.  She tried again.  "I… don't know what to say.  I feel silly, actually."  She chuckled.  "I guess I can't embarrass myself if you're asleep though, right?" 

She paused, leaning her forehead against his limp fingers.  "I'm scared, Cullen.  I don't know what's wrong, and I don't know how upset I should be because we just started dating but… I really care about you.  Please come back to me."  She moved to kiss his hand again.  "Please be okay."  

Cassandra slipped in while she was talking, though Talia barely noticed.  "I talked to his healer," she said quietly when Talia didn't continue.  She blushed as she turned, wondering how much Cassandra had heard, but part of her didn't care. 

"Will he be okay?" 

"They… think so, yes," the Seeker hedged as she took a seat opposite Talia.  Her dark eyes trained on Cullen's face as she continued.  "It's some kind of withdrawal issue, though it's more severe than any of them have seen before.  They wanted to administer lyrium to alleviate his symptoms." 

Talia drew a hissed breath.  "You can't let them do that!" 

Cassandra gave her a sharp look.  "I will not, I assure you, unless we must to keep him alive." 

The bottom of her stomach plummeted.  Though Cullen had said it was a possibility, the chance that he could die hadn't seemed real until this moment.  "Is that… um…"  Tears made it hard for her to speak.  "Will that happen?" 

"I do not believe so," Cassandra said, reaching across Cullen's prone form to squeeze Talia's hand.  "His system is trying to adjust, which is very difficult, but the healers believe this is primarily the result of his dehydration.  They aren't sure, as no one has gotten this far before, but I've been monitoring his levels and it's much lower than it was when he started weaning himself off." 

"So… will he be okay?"  Each time the Seeker spoke without answering that question, Talia's heart clenched just a little bit tighter. 

Cassandra sighed and looked away.  "They say if he makes it through the next 24 hours without another seizure, and without his fever spiking again, he should recover." 

"Andraste save him," Talia muttered, her face ashen.  Fear bubbled in the pit of her stomach. 

"He will be fine, Talia," Cassandra assured her, but she could still hear how her voice wavered just a bit. 

"Do you swear it," she whispered, her eyes on Cullen's face.  His eyes moved beneath their lids, his breathing deep and regular. 

"I… cannot," the Seeker replied just as softly.  "There are no guarantees." 

"So what do we do?" 

"We wait," she said, and on the other side of the bed, Talia started crying once more. 


	15. Chapter 15

She fell asleep at some point in the long, lonely afternoon that followed. 

People filtered in and out of the room, sometimes waking her, sometimes not.  A healer cast some kind of dispelling bubble over Cullen's bed, the air inside cooler to help him rest, and a nurse swapped out his IV bag.  Someone swapped his oxygen mask for a little tube that hooked over his ears, two little nubs fitted under his nose.  Dorian gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek before he headed back to Skyhold.  Cassandra hovered, in and out of the room as she asked questions and fretted over Talia still sitting at his bedside. 

She was asleep when two of the show's producers, Josephine and Solas, arrived.  The well-dressed Antivan woman spoke with Cassandra and Cullen's primary healer at length before she stepped into the room, and even then, she didn't do more than give a horrified gasp before stepping back out.  Solas stood outside the door the whole time, his hands folded behind his back, and sad nothing. 

Cassandra had to wake Talia up.  "The producers want to speak with you," she said gently.  "I'll sit with him for a while." 

Talia yawned as she uncurled from the chair.   Sleep had come easily, but she suspected it was sheer exhaustion rather than calm that made her drift off.  Her back was stiff, her neck sore.  And Cullen's condition hadn't changed, even if his face had just a little more color.  Worry flooded back over her, alleviated for just the slight time she'd been asleep. 

"What do they want want," she grumbled as she left the room, only to be confronted by Josephine and a very large cup of coffee almost immediately.  Solas offered her a cold smile.

"We need to go over a few things with you regarding Mr. Rutherford," the producer said.  "Please follow me."  She led Talia into an empty waiting room and sat down, producing a leather-bound portfolio and a pen from nowhere.  Solas sat beside her, his hands folded on his knees.  "Now, where shall I start?" 

Talia sipped at her coffee as she listened, trying not to cringe at the sheer awfulness of the hospital sludge she'd been provided.  The producers talked her through Cullen's contract with the show; apparently he had some kind of special rider attached that limited filming in the event of an emergency such as this one.  Josephine had no problem with this one, but Solas, who it turned out was also the show's attorney, was insistent that she return to the house to fulfill her legal obligations as a participant. 

Talia couldn't help but be annoyed.  Seriously?  This lawyer was worried about filming rights at a time like this? 

Josephine gave the elf a look.  "We are concerned with Mr. Rutherford's recovery," she said, trying to soften Solas's words.  "And we want you to have the opportunity to remain with him during this time.  I understand how hard it must be," she said, giving Talia a sympathetic smile. 

"Thank you," she replied quietly, resisting the urge to give Solas the finger.  How could he think that her traipsing around Skyhold gossiping with Dorian was more important that her place here, doing whatever she could to take care of Cullen?  He needed her more than the damn show.  And she needed to be there, offering what comfort she could, and who the fuck cared if it wasn't filmed?

As it turned out, the producers were also concerned about Cullen's potential return to the show.  Josephine had already spoken at length with Cassandra about his returning to Skyhold as opposed to Kirkwall, assuming he recovered of course, an addition from the lawyer that had Talia choking on her coffee. 

"He didn't mean to upset you, I'm so sorry," Josephine said, producing a handkerchief once she'd put down her pen.  Talia accepted with a low grunt of acknowledgement.   Solas did nothing. 

How could this conversation be happening?  Cullen would recover; his fever would come down, he wouldn't need lyrium, and eventually, he'd be fine.  Why did this producer insist on speaking like that wasn't possible? 

"Now, I'm sure he will recover," Josephine continued with another glance at her colleague.   Beside her, he closed his mouth.  "Which is why we must ask you a series of favors." 

"I'm listening," she said, her leg bouncing with anxiety.  What if Cullen had woken up while she'd been out here?  What if Cassandra couldn’t find her? 

"First," Solas began before explaining that they needed Talia to essentially sign something that said she'd keep an eye on Cullen and be responsible for reporting to the show regarding his health after this incident and for the following week.  Should his symptoms persist, they would re-evaluate. 

"I believe you need to talk with Cassandra about that," Talia informed them.  "She has his power of attorney."  Josephine looked surprised.  Solas merely arched one eyebrow

"She does?  Why didn't she tell us that a few minutes ago?" 

Talia rolled her eyes.  "I bet you refused to tell her what you wanted."  Cassandra's tolerance for unnecessary bullshit was fairly low, and she was sure the cold attitude the elf radiated would have been more than enough to piss the Seeker off. 

"The legal responsibilities to Mr. Rutherford as a participant are such that --" 

Talia interrupted.  "I'm not signing anything like that.  Just tell me what else you want."  She didn't want to be rude, but every second out here with these people was time better spent with her eyes glued to her boyfriend lying unconscious and sick.   Dusk hadn't even fallen yet; they had hours yet to go before the healers were willing to re-evaluate his prognosis. 

"Someone needs to notify his next of kin," Josephine admitted at last, and suddenly she had Talia's full attention. 

  "In his paperwork, Mr. Rutherford asked that, should such an emergency arrive, someone contact his closest relative.  I believe that is his sister… "  She checked her portfolio.  "Mia Rutherford." 

"She's married now," Talia said absently, and the producer made a helpless gesture. 

"That's the name he gave.  And her contact information," she passed Talia a business card with Mia's name and phone number on it.  "She must be contacted within 48 hours of admission to the hospital."    

Solas added, "As you can imagine, we'd prefer it to be sooner." 

Talia turned the card over aimlessly in her fingers.  "Right now, we don't know what's going to happen to him," she muttered, and Josephine looked chastised. 

"I understand that, Ms. Trevelyan," she said. 

"Someone still needs to contact her," Solas finished, one hand running over his bald head.  Evidently Talia was bothering him; she couldn't have cared less. 

"I'm a little busy in case you didn't notice.  Why don't you do it?" 

With a simpering smile, Josephine started packing up her things.  "You know Mr. Rutherford best, I'm afraid.  I wouldn't know where to begin, other than cursory medical details."  She had Talia there. "Anything you can offer her to help her feel better about her brother's care, please do so." 

With a nod, Talia put the card in her pocket.  "One of us will call her tomorrow when Cullen's better." 

"Perfect."  She stood, smoothing down her skirt.  "I have arranged for a couch and blankets so you can stay the night here." 

Solas had not yet moved.  Instead he leveled a cool, gray gaze at Talia.  "If Mr. Rutherford's stay in the hospital extends beyond 48 hours, you will be required to return to the house to fulfill your contracted filming time." 

Josephine laid a hand on his shoulder, but he didn't move.  "Surely we will work something out if it comes to that, Ms. Trevelyan," she said carefully, and Talia caught how her knuckles went white as she tightened her grip. 

"Best of luck with his recovery," Solas said finally, standing to leave, and Talia fought not to roll her eyes. 

"I'll be back tomorrow to check on him," Josephine said, hanging back as Solas left.  When he was out of earshot, she leaned over and added, "Alone," in a low voice. 

For the first time all day, Talia smiled a little. 

"Good luck," the producer said, patting her arm, and then she too was gone. 

She walked back toward Cullen's room, wondering what in Thedas she would say to his sister.  Between the various stories he'd told and the face he always made when he came out of the phone booth each week, she wasn't sure what to expect.  Mia Rutherford could very well be the most intimidating woman Talia would ever encounter. 

Other than Cassandra Pentaghast, of course.  Said Seeker was lounging in the chair next to Cullen's bed, her nose buried in an advance copy of Varric's latest book.  "How did it go?"  She asked when Talia walked in. 

"One of us has to call his sister," Talia said, dropping into the other chair opposite the bed. 

That made Cassandra look up.   "I… not it," she said quickly, closing the book with a snap.  "That woman is terrifying." 

"Andraste's tits, she scares _you_?" 

Cassandra nodded, her eyes wide.  "Once Cullen got his arm broken by a rogue qunari, just after the uprising in Kirkwall, and had to have surgery.  He was still pretty new to the force, and I had to call Mia and tell her he was in the hospital."  The Seeker smiled a little.  "She has a more colorful vocabulary than any of the military men I've ever worked with." 

Talia swallowed. 

"So I repeat, not it." 

Between them, Cullen mumbled something in his sleep, and suddenly the point was moot.  "Did anything change while I was gone?" 

Cassandra just shook her head.  "Nothing yet.  The healers say it could be a few more hours before his fever breaks."  They exchanged looks.  "Perhaps… you should wait to call Mia in the morning.  We'll know more by then." 

Talia nodded. 

The Seeker left not long after that.  The producers had apparently insisted that only one of them would be allowed to stay the night, and without even consulting her, Cassandra had volunteered.   "I'll be back in the morning," she told Talia, giving her a quick hug. 

Try as she might, Talia couldn't fall asleep once she was alone with him.  Her head nodded off to the side occasionally, and she felt exhaustion pulling her eyes shut, but that last little drop into sleep eluded her.  The arms of the chair dug into her sides, or the angle of her head put just enough strain on her neck to hurt, or the ongoing _beep…beep…beep…_ of Cullen's heart rate monitor served as just enough reminder of what had happened. And what could still happen.  Nurses and healers drifted in and out of the room as she waited, and none did anything other than offer her a slight smile or a pat on the arm. 

After two burly orderlies moved in the couch Josephine had promised, she moved over and tried to sleep there, but she still couldn't get comfortable.  She read every pop culture magazine she could find, including several old issues with articles she'd written.  They bored her to tears, even now, and some corner of her mind suggested she needed a new job when this was over.  _Now's not the time_ , she told herself as she pushed the thought aside.  She hadn't thought to bring her own book, nor ask Cassandra for hers, but she'd grabbed an ancient military history off Cullen's bedside table so she tried to read that.  It was excessively dry, something about tactics in the Rivaini war for independence from the Tevinter Imperium nearly a hundred years after they'd burned Andraste at the stake.  She had no idea what so fascinated Cullen about military history -- she'd watched him read several other books like this one back at the house -- but she liked him, so she gave it a try.  At least if she didn't like it, it would probably put her to sleep. 

A slogging hour later, and even that hadn't worked. 

She gave up. 

Instead, book tucked in her lap, she watched Cullen sleep.  His eyes moved restlessly beneath their lids, and she desperately hoped it was a good dream.  She knew he struggled with nightmares; that seemed too much for him now, weak as he was.  The stubble that normally scuffed his chin had grown into something close to a full beard, dark gold and a little patchy.   Above it, his cheekbones protruded from his face, dark shadows under his eyes, and suddenly Talia wondered how she hadn't noticed how sick he looked.  Their date night had only been 24 hours before -- how could she not have noticed?  A wave of guilt washed over her.  She'd insisted they go out, and of all things, they'd gone drinking and dancing, neither of which would have been good for his withdrawal.  How could she have been so selfish?  She hadn't given a thought to his physical well-being, too focused on how happy she was to be able to kiss him and hold him without fear of judgment. 

What if she'd done something to cause this with her inattention? 

But then, Cullen hadn't said anything about being too ill to go.  He was protective of her, careful not to disappoint or hurt her, but he was honest; surely he would have said something if he'd suspected this was coming.  Throughout their weeks at Skyhold, migraines had felled him or he'd hung back from festivities to make sure he didn't push himself too far -- he'd have done that last night if he needed to, right? 

She didn't know.  Maybe.  She wanted to think so, but it was hard to absolve herself of guilt when he lay motionless before her. 

Talia watched him a while longer, turning yesterday's events over in her mind and trying to figure out if she'd missed something.  He'd had a headache for most of the evening, which wasn't unusual the past few days, and he hadn't had much to drink.  That seemed normal since she'd never seen him drink more than two beers at a time.  She'd stolen fries from his plate at the bar, met with that smirk she wanted to kiss off his face every time.  Now that she thought about it, he hadn't eaten much -- most of his burger had been left behind.  That meant he'd probably been feeling a little nauseous, right?  But he hadn't thrown up, so maybe not. 

She scrunched herself down on the couch.  Yesterday didn't matter much at the moment.  It was over, and Cullen was sick, and if she'd done something, she couldn't fix it now. 

When she focused her attention back on him, he was smiling just a little as he slept, the corners of his mouth ticked up.  She jumped up and rushed to his side, noting with relief that his fever was down close to 100 now.  That was nearly a full degree from when she'd first seen him hours ago.  His pulse was down too, below 80 beats per minute, and she heaved a sigh of relief.  He was recovering.  It could get bad again, but maybe, just maybe, he was going to be okay. 

She brushed a kiss across his forehead.  This time when she lay down on the couch, sleep came easily.

\---

Talia woke the next morning to find Cassandra standing at Cullen's bedside.  Coffee in hand, she was studying the various screens and numbers that delineated his condition.  To Talia's relief, she didn't look upset.  In fact, she looked almost pleased, and though she wasn't quite sure how that would manifest on the Seeker's stern face, she felt better too. 

She was not, however, pleased with the sunlight streaming through the windows as she rolled off the uncomfortable couch.  "What time is it?" 

"Almost ten," Cassandra said without turning. 

Talia froze mid-stretch.  "Andraste's tits, why did you let me sleep so long?" 

"I only got here an hour ago.  His fever broke during the night, and the healers said you needed the rest," she explained.  She wandered over, passing Talia a cup of coffee as she did, and smiled.  "I agreed." 

Talia took a long sip from the coffee: the same hospital shit as yesterday.  But it was caffeinated, and that she appreciated.  "What else did the healers say?" 

Cassandra walked her through the numbers on the screen.  His pulse was a much more reasonable 72 bmp -- high, according to Cassandra, but it sounded great to Talia -- and his fever had hovered around 99 since about 5:30 that morning.  "He's much improved," she finished.  "But the doctors still aren't sure what to do about the withdrawal.  Apparently it could happen again, and they don't know when, or if, we'll start seeing more severe symptoms like hallucinations or memory loss." 

Talia's mouth fell open as she listened, and she saw Cassandra hesitate.  No one had mentioned those possibilities to her before, not even Cullen.  "He might hallucinate?  Maker, what do we do?" 

Cassandra looked unsure.  "We… don't really know.  Hallucinations are a common withdrawal symptom, but also a common symptom of prolonged lyrium use.  Memory loss is the same." 

"So you don't know." 

Cassandra shook her head.  "No one does, I'm afraid." 

Talia reached over to brush his hair from his forehead as she pondered this.  The product he used had long ago been sweated out, his natural curls a little grimy from the ordeal, but his skin was dry.  That, at least, was a relief.  "So what do we do?"  It felt like she'd been asking this question for weeks. 

"We wait, I'm afraid," Cassandra answered.  "But he'll wake up.  The nurse I spoke with said he's sleeping peacefully now, which is also an improvement."  She glanced at Talia.  "We need to call his sister." 

The anxiety that had vanished with sleep came roaring back to life in Talia's stomach.  "Right. I'd forgotten," she said, taking another sip from her coffee.  She was going to need it. 

Cassandra directed her down the hallway to an empty office.  It had a chair, and a door that closed, and that was about all the privacy she was going to get, so she took it.  Carefully she sat herself down, playing with the business card in her hand as she contemplated what to say.  She hardly knew anything about Mia; even Cullen had said that calls from the show were more contact than he'd had with her in the previous decade. 

It did not bode well. 

Drawing up her courage, she picked up the phone and dialed. 

It rang for several long minutes before someone picked up.  "Hello?"  said a gruff male voice, and Talia realized she had no idea what Mia's husband's name was.  

"Um, hi," she started.  "I'm, uh, Talia.  Trevelyan, I mean, I'm Talia Trevelyan.  You don't know me, but I know your brother.  I mean, I know Mia's brother.  Is she, um, available, maybe?" 

In all her stumbling, she didn't realize that whoever had answered the phone was chuckling.  "Are you by chance the pretty woman Cullen's been flirting with on that show?"  the man asked, and Talia blushed. 

"Um. Yes?" 

The man laughed again, but there was no malice in the rumbling.  "Well, hello Talia, this is Owen.  I'm Mia's husband.  Is everything okay?" 

"Well… not really," Talia said honestly before she could stop herself.  "But… the show's people wanted me to call Mia.  Something about next of kin and all that…" 

Owen interrupted.  "He's alive, right?" 

"Oh Maker, yes, I'm so sorry!"  She blushed harder.  She was making a fool out of herself and probably scaring this poor man in the process.  What a first impression.  "He's okay, but he's… in the hospital." 

"Lyrium, right?"  Owen asked, and Talia nearly choked. 

"How did you --" 

"They showed that clip on the show two weeks ago," he explained.  "Here, Mia just walked in.  Let me pass you over to her." 

There was some fumbling on the other end while the phone changed hands, and Talia hurried to wrap her mind around things.  Somehow she'd forgotten that Cullen's family watched the show, so of course they knew at least a little about what was going on.  Will probably did too, though she wasn't sure if he'd bothered watching past the first episode or two.  She'd have to ask next time she called him. 

Then a woman's clear voice said, "Hello?"  and her attention flew back to the phone in her hand.  To her surprise, a moment to clear her head had done wonders. 

"Hi, this is Talia Trevelyan," she said, mentally congratulating herself on getting her full name out without scrambling it.  "Is this Mia?" 

"This is," the woman said.  "Is Cullen all right?  Owen said he's alive, but that doesn't always mean, you know, that he's okay." 

"We… actually waited to call you until we knew he was going to be okay," Talia admitted. 

"That sounds bad," Mia mumbled, and Talia rushed to correct her. 

"No, no, he's fine, it's just… well, he's not fine, but the healers think he'll recover, and Cassandra agrees, so really we're just waiting, and… Oh Maker I did it again, I'm so sorry."  She rubbed her forehead with her free hand.  This was awful.  Cassandra should have called, she would have made actual sense to Cullen's sister instead of her sitting there babbling and freaking her out. 

Mia's voice cut through the white noise of her panic.  "Talia, slow down, it's okay," she said softly.  "I've seen you on the show, and I know you care about him.  Take a deep breath, there you go, and start at the beginning." 

Talia did as she instructed, the swirl of thoughts ebbing as she listened.  She could picture this woman in her mind's eye: tall, blonde curly hair with brown eyes like her brother, and that same easy smile.  It probably wouldn't be as lopsided and adorable as Cullen's, but she had no doubts that Mia's eyes would be just as warm. 

"Still with me?"  Mia asked when Talia didn't speak, and she shook herself a little.

"Yes, I'm sorry," she said quickly. 

She could almost hear Mia smile.  "It's okay.  So.  What stupid thing did my brother do this time?  Last time it was a reality show, and the time before that, something about a qunari." 

Talia laughed a little.  "Nothing stupid, actually.  Something… good.  Noble, maybe, if that word isn't too pretentious." 

Mia snorted.  "Whatever happened is because of the lyrium, isn't it?" 

Talia nodded before remembering that Mia couldn't see her.  "Yes."  She filled in the gaps quickly, skirting over Cullen's various migraines and struggles in the house before telling Mia about their date night out in Val Royeaux.  She mostly skimmed over events until she got to that nerve-wracking bus ride back home, and then she told her everything, every detail she could remember about the previous 24 hours. 

Mia listened, making scared or sympathetic noises but never interrupting. 

When she finally got to this morning, how Cullen hadn't woken up but his fever was down and the healers were pretty sure he was going to be okay, Mia heaved a sigh of relief. 

"Thank the Maker," she said quietly, her voice thick.  Talia absently wondered if she'd been crying as she listened -- Cullen said his sister was tough, but Talia hadn't made it through everything without a few tears herself.  She asked questions for a minute, mostly if Cullen had been eating or sleeping like he needed to, before she was satisfied that even if he'd ended up in the hospital, he was otherwise taking care of himself. 

"He's such a baby about things," she grumbled.  "He doesn't ask for help, he won't admit he's even sick until it's too late."   Talia tried not to laugh.  Cullen was the least baby-like person she'd perhaps ever met; she'd never known anyone else to suffer like he did and never say a word.   From her questions, it sounded like maybe Mia knew this but wanted to worry over her little brother. 

"So.  What can I do?"  Mia asked when she'd tired of fretting. 

"Well… not much, really," Talia admitted.  "The show's people wanted you to know, and I… figured Cullen would agree." 

Mia hmphed.  "Maybe.  Cully's only started calling regularly with the show, so who knows.  Not the point.  Should I come up there? Maker, I bet that would scare the pants off him." 

Talia made a mental note of the nickname.

"You… can," she began, not sure how to continue.  They didn't even know yet how long Cullen would be in the hospital.  She said so.  "I can call again when I know more." 

In the background of the phone, she heard people talking quietly before Mia's husband came back on the line.  "Hi Talia," he said.  "Mia forgot she's not allowed to travel in her third trimester, so a visit is probably out.  Does Cullen need a place to stay when he's out of the hospital?  We have a spare room." 

"I… don't know," Talia replied honestly. No one had talked about what happened when he was better yet.  "Maybe?" 

"Let us know, and we'll make it happen," Owen said.  He asked several of the same questions Mia had, mostly about what had happened, and Talia filled in as much as she could.  "Cullen's a good guy," Owen told her when she finished.  "I'm sure he'll be fine." 

"I hope so," she replied. 

"He will. It's easy to see that he likes you."

Talia couldn't help herself.  "What, uh, what's happened on the show?" 

"Well, we saw a big fight last week, and you got Cullen to do yoga?"  In the background, Talia heard what could only be Mia's voice saying that Owen needed to leave that poor girl alone.

Talia smiled.  "Oh yeah, I forgot about that." 

"And he still hasn't kissed you, which just infuriates my lovely wife," Owen continued, and there was a clatter as Mia grabbed the phone out of his hand. 

"Tell Cully to get a move on with that, for your sake and mine," she demanded. 

Talia laughed; she couldn't help herself.  "Don't worry, he's got it covered," she assured her, and Mia squealed. 

"Thank the Maker!  I'd hoped that was why you called and not that terrifying colleague of his from Kirkwall." 

Talia swallowed down her laughter.  Yesterday Cassandra had been so adamant about not calling Mia, citing how much Cullen's sister scared her, and now Mia was saying the same thing.  "Cass is taking care of him too.  She just thought I should call you since we're dating.  Or… well, I'm not sure what you call it when you can't leave the house, but we're together." 

"I'm so happy for you two!  What happens when the show is over?  Wait, no, too soon for that.  Are they letting you stay with him when he's sick?  Can you tell me anything else about it?" 

Talia smiled to herself.  Mia's stumbling reminded her so strongly of Cullen, even if his sister was more enthusiastic.  "The producers are pretty understanding of me staying in the hospital with him.  But I can't tell you the specifics other than to say to watch the show," she teased, and just like she'd thought, Mia grumbled. 

"It is so unfair you can't tell me," she said.  It was like they were old friends, not their first conversation ever. 

"Hopefully… I'll get you meet you in person one day," Talia ventured, and she could hear the smile in Mia's voice. 

"I do hope so.  Maybe you can get Cullen to come visit when his niece and nephew arrive in a few months." 

"I'll do my best," Talia promised. 

"I better let you go," Mia said then.  "Thank you for calling, and for taking care of him.  I'm… really glad he has you, honestly." 

Talia smiled.  "I'll call again when we know more.  Or have Cullen call, if he's feeling up to it after he wakes up." 

They hung up amicably, and for a few minutes, Talia sat and ran through the conversation again in her mind.  They'd been upset but not panicking.  Was that normal? She and Cassandra had agreed to wait to call until they had an update, and maybe since it had been good news, Cullen's sister wasn't that worried. 

Talia hoped so. 

She stopped in the restroom on her way back, throwing some water on her face and attempting to comb her messy hair.  It wasn't much; she needed a shower, frankly, but she refused to go anywhere.  This would have to do. 

When she walked back into the room, Cullen's eyes were open. 


	16. Chapter 16

Cassandra was sitting beside Cullen's bed, talking quietly.  He seemed to be listening, his droopy eyes fixed on her face, but he glanced up when Talia entered.  A small smile greeted her. 

"Hi," he rasped.

Talia blinked back tears at the sight of him.  "Hey you," she said softly, stepping closer.  Cullen tried to lift one hand but didn't quite have the strength.  She ran her hand down his arm to catch his fingers as she reached the bed.  "How are you feeling?" 

"Tired," he managed.  "You?" 

The corners of her mouth lifted in a small smile.  "Worried."  She squeezed his hand, and though there wasn't much strength in it, he squeezed back.  "Did Cass fill you in on what happened?" 

Cullen nodded, and Cassandra spoke up.  "As much as I could, yes.  His primary hasn't been in to see him since he woke, but he should be on his way.  But…"  She gestured to the screens, and Talia was happy to see that his temperature was hovering around normal now.  "His fever is gone, at least for the time being." 

Talia glanced at him, her brow furrowed.  "Do you remember anything?" 

"Not really," he replied, shaking his head.  "I remember riding back to Skyhold with you after I passed out, and then… nothing, really." 

She forced a scared smile.  "You haven't been awake since." 

He squeezed her hand.  "I'm so sorry, Talia." 

"Don't apologize," she said, running her free hand up and down his arm.  "I'm just…"  She almost laughed as she realized her eyes were tearing up. Again.  "I'm really glad you're okay." 

On Cullen's other side, Cassandra cleared her throat awkwardly.  "I'll give you some space," she said.  "Maybe Cullen's doctor is here."  She left quickly. 

"Thanks, Cass," Cullen managed, though his gaze never left Talia's.  "I'm… Thank you, for being here when I woke up." 

"But, I wasn't, Cassandra --" 

"You're here now," he tried to smile.  "That's what I meant.  I'm sorry, I'm not good at this."  He almost sounded angry, and Talia squeezed his hand. 

"No, no, you're fine, I just… of course I'm here.  I care about you."  She'd been nearly sick with worry; how could he be frustrated with that? 

"Thank you," he said.  His face was still pale, but his eyes were twinkling.  "I'd ask for a kiss, but I don't believe I've brushed my teeth in… what? Two days?" 

A laugh forced its way out of her, sounding a little choked by her tears but a laugh nonetheless.  "As if I'd let that bother me."  She ran her free hand over his forehead, brushing damp hair off his skin before trailing it down the side of his face and leaning in to kiss him. His lips were chapped and dry, his stubble grown into a nearly-full beard when she hadn't been paying attention, but he kissed her just as eagerly as always. 

When they broke apart, Talia was careful not to yank on the tubing looped over his ears as she ran her fingers through his hair.  "I'm so glad you're awake."  

"You said that," he replied, but where before he’d been smiling, now his lips were pressed in a frown.  A small groan slipped from him before he could stop it. 

Talia hesitated.  “Cullen, are you feeling okay?” 

He nodded sharply.  “Fine, I just…” He grunted, trying to bite off the sound before it could escape, and glanced up at her.  “Could you get me a glass of water, please?” 

“Of course.”  She answered quickly, but hesitated to leave.  His expression hadn’t changed, but it was only too easy to see the shadows under his eyes and the lines of tension across his forehead.  “Need anything else?” 

He gave her a tight smile.  “Just some water.” 

“I’ll be right back.”  She went in search of a nurse who could help her. Cassandra and the healer were talking quietly just down the hall, and though Cass’s face was as drawn as always, she gave Talia a small nod as she passed. 

Finding a nurse took a surprisingly long time; apparently all those editorials she’d read about the overcrowding of Val Royeaux General were true.  After a few fruitless minutes, she finally spotted a young woman walking out of what had to be the break room, and though she felt bad about the ambush, she didn’t hesitate to grab her and ask for her help. 

Thankfully, the nurse was sympathetic.  She showed Talia a nearby waiting room with supplies for families as well as refilled a pitcher for Cullen, and soon she was back on her way to him.  She hadn’t been able to get the image of his tight smile out of her head. 

As soon as she stepped inside his room, she saw why. 

Somehow Cullen had forced himself up to sitting, his legs swung off the far side of the bed.  His shoulders trembled with effort, his gapped-open hospital gown revealing the long scars that crossed his back as well as a surprisingly good view of his well-toned backside. 

Talia did not have the time she might have liked to admire it. 

He hadn’t noticed she was there yet; he was mumbling something to himself angrily.  The pitcher crashed to the floor as she ran toward him, and just as she reached him, he punched one of the many screaming monitors surrounding him.  She shrieked as it shattered, hands rising to cover her face. 

He turned, horror mixed with fear on his face and blood streaming down his knuckles.  “Maker's breath, Talia, I didn't hear you –”

“Stop it!”  She shouted.  “What are you doing, stop!”

Cassandra burst in, the shouts and monitors bringing the healer and a set of nurses behind her.  “What’s going on?” 

“Get out!” Cullen roared at them, his voice breaking.  

The healer muttered something to a nurse, who went running as the rest followed him out.  Cassandra stood her ground, arms folded across her chest.  “I am going nowhere,” she said coldly.  She glanced at Talia, who had folded herself into the far corner of the room.  “Are you all right?” 

“Fine, I’m fine,” she said softly, eyes glued to Cullen.  Blood ran down his hand from where he’d torn out his IV; somehow she'd failed to notice when she came in.  He was struggling to stand, his legs shaking as he put weight on them, but his face looked ferociously angry. 

The Seeker didn’t blink.  “They will be back in a minute with a sedative.  Explain.” 

“I want out, Cassandra,” he growled.  “I don’t need to be here.” 

“That is perhaps the most ridiculous thing you have ever said, Cullen,” she told him. 

“It is the truth!  I was handling the withdrawal fine on my own!” 

Cassandra opened her mouth to shout back, but Talia beat her to it.  “Cullen… you almost died,” she said softly, and his eyes flew to her, recognition sparking as if he hadn’t quite realized she was still in the room.  “I was with you.  Your fever was so high you had a seizure.  We didn’t know if they’d gotten you here in time to… to…” 

“You are not fine, Cullen,” Cassandra added when Talia couldn’t finish.  She could hardly see for the tears running down her face. 

“Then let them give me the lyrium,” he snapped suddenly, and Cassandra’s mouth fell open in surprise.

“What?” 

“If I am that far gone, give it to me.  Fix me.  If I'm unable to fulfill what vows I kept, then nothing good has come of this.  Why should I continue fighting?” 

Talia’s gaze flew between them.  What was happening?  Cullen had been trying to overcome this addiction for months, longer than she’d known him, and Cassandra had been helping him.  He couldn’t be serious. 

Cassandra seemed to agree.  “I did not say you were beaten.  Don’t throw all your progress away.” 

He managed to straighten up and turned to stare at her.  “How will I be able to do my job when we are through, Cassandra?  If I am like this, broken, weak… how can I do what I will be asked to do?” 

“There is no need to give up,” she replied.  “You will recover.” 

“How do you know?”  He shouted.  “Why should I beat it, when so many better men have failed?” 

“I have watched you every second,” Cassandra snapped back.  “You have made it further than anyone else.  You will beat it.” 

“Would you really rather save face than admit you are wrong?  It’s relentless, I can’t even –”  His knees buckled under him as he tried to step closer, and he fell sideways with a groan, catching himself on the bed before he could hit the floor.  Talia went to him, crouching to slid her arm around his waist and help him up, but he pushed her away.  It was a gentle push, more him shrugging off her touch than anything else, but she backed away as though he’d struck her. 

Cassandra had not moved.  “What do you want from me, Cullen?” 

He glared at her as he tried to right himself.  “I expect you to keep your word.” 

“I promised to remove you from the force if your withdrawal interfered with your job,” she growled.  “That has not happened.” 

With great effort, he pulled himself up and sat heavily on the bed.  “Then get out.” 

“I’ll send in a nurse to fix your IV,” she told him before she turned on her heel.  Talia heard her mutter what sounded like, “People think I’m stubborn,” as she left. 

Then it was just she and Cullen alone in the room.  He didn’t look at her, only cradled his head in his hands.  Blood ran in slow rivulets down his arm.  For a long moment, Talia studied his bent form.  Should she go to him?  Ask if he was okay?  It was a stupid question, but it would be something, and she didn’t know how to start. 

Cullen spoke before she could.  “I never meant for this to interfere,” he whispered into his fists, and Talia's heart nearly broke. 

"Are you going to be all right?" 

"Yes," he answered quickly before another groan escaped him.  "I don't know."  Absently he touched the dark bruise forming on his hand where the IV had been.  Blood was smeared from his yanking it out, and he studied it on his fingertips. 

"I told you I was in an accident, but it's more than that.  I was there when Kinloch Hold fell," he said suddenly, and her own blood ran cold.  Kinloch was one of the most famous of the mage rebellions of the last ten years; none before or since had gone to such atrocious lengths to break from the Chantry, nor failed so dramatically. 

And none had left so few survivors. 

"I was the Templar in charge of taking the Circle back.  It was taken over by abominations and blood mages, and my men, my _friends_ , were slaughtered.  I was tortured."  He said it so matter-of-factly that her heart nearly broke.  A choked squeak snuck out, though she tried to suppress it.  "They tried to break my mind, and I -- how can you be the same person after that?" 

"Oh, Cullen, I --" 

He didn't seem hear her, his eyes unfocused as he stared out the window from his bed.  "Still, I wanted to serve.  They sent me to Kirkwall."  He gave a choked laugh.  "I trusted my Knight-Commander only to realize that she branded innocent mages, the same ones I was sworn to protect.  I left the Templars only to confront the qunari invasion, and once the Viscount died, Meredith Stannard took his place.

"There is no peace to be had in that place, and I have had none."  He finally looked up at her.  "Can't you see why I want nothing to do with that life?" 

She stepped closer to touch his shoulder.  "Of course I can." 

He dropped his head back into his hands, his voice shaking as he tried to hold back tears.  "Why me," he muttered.  "Why did I live when others died?  I am nothing, and without lyrium I am less.  I should be taking it.  I am weak, tired, broken without it. I should be taking it!" His fist collided with the bedrail as his side this time, and it clattered with the force of his blow.  He didn't even cringe as it split the skin of his knuckles further. 

She didn't risk touching him again.  Instead she took a deep breath, drawing up every bit of courage she possessed.  She crouched down so she could see his face, the wild panic in his eyes and the clenched muscle in his jaw, and willed her voice not to shake.  "Is that what you want?" 

His answer was immediate.  "No." He met her gaze, his eyes pleading.  "I… I thought this would be better, that I would re-gain some control over my life.  But these thoughts won't leave me." 

Carefully she reached for one of his hands, pulling it from his face to hold it in hers.  "Cullen, I care about you… Tell me how I can help." 

He clenched his fingers into a tight fist.  "These memories have always haunted me.  If they become worse, if I cannot endure this… I cannot put you through that."  He turned away, his eyes closed. 

For a long, long while, heavy silence hung over the room as Talia tried to process what she'd heard.  He… couldn't be pushing her away, could he? This wasn’t where she’d thought they’d end, not in a hospital room and not after only a few weeks.  That was insanity. 

She almost smiled as the realization sank in.  The man in front of her was scared, in pain and so accustomed to being alone.  They were alike, she and Cullen, and that recognition more than anything else pushed her to reach for his hand once more. 

This time, he didn't pull away.  "Talia…" 

"You don't have to ask me to go through it," she said quietly, threading their fingers together gently and trying to ignore the blood that smeared onto her skin.  She didn't want to hurt him further.  "I want to be here." 

Cullen met her eyes, his expression guarded.  "I cannot let you sit beside me and watch me die." 

Her heart clenched, but she ignored it.  "That's not going to happen," she said, holding herself steady.  "You are going to beat this, Cullen." 

His jaw shook as he stared at her.  "You don't know that." 

"I do," she insisted.  "Because I know you.  I know you can do it."  He didn't answer.  His eyes were trained on her, still pained and filled with tears, and she stared back.  It was the truth, and she believed it with every part of her she could offer.  She'd watched him fight the withdrawal for weeks, doing everything in his power to atone for the mistakes of his life.  This was the last piece, and he could do it. 

At last, he nodded.  "All right," he whispered. 

Talia squeezed his hand one last time as she stood.  The blood on his hands was tacky as it dried, and though he was trying to hide it, she could see his shoulders shaking, though whether it was from exertion or sobs was beyond her.  Either way, it didn't matter. 

She left him alone for a moment so she could wash her hands, gently scrubbing the blood off her skin.  After drying her hands, she soaked the towel and wrung it out before bringing it over to him.   She crouched again, moving slowly so she didn't startle him, and waited until he met her eyes.  Mindful of his injuries and shaking, she took his hand and gently wiped the blood there away.  It streaked the towel pink, and she felt Cullen flinch when she accidentally brushed the deepest cut across his knuckles, but she kept working.  He was relaxing with her touch, tension leaving the muscles of his forearms. 

When one arm was sufficiently clean, she smiled up at him.  "Ready for the other?" 

"You don't have to do this," he told her, but she just shook her head. 

"I never liked having a reminder when something bad happened," she said calmly.  "Trust me?"  With an abrupt nod, he reached out his other arm.  The IV had torn a jagged hole in the back of his hand when he'd ripped it out, and he cringed when she washed it, but thankfully that was the worst of it.  She wiped down the back of his forearm where blood had trickled to pool in his elbow.  "The nurse will have to give you a fresh IV," she said when she finished, sitting back on her heels. 

Cullen nodded again.  His eyelids were drooping, his face stained with tear tracks.  With the only edge of the cloth still beige, Talia reached up and wiped the sweat off his forehead, the salt off his cheeks.  "Are you okay?" 

"I don't deserve you," he said quietly, ignoring her question, and she reached to cup his face, abandoning the towel on the floor. 

"That's such nonsense," she said, brushing the comment off.  "Right now, you need rest."  

"No, I mean it --" he started to protest, but she interrupted. 

" You deserve all sorts of good things, Cullen," she replied softly.  "Please let me take care of you."  The desire surprised her a little with its sincerity, and when the scar on his lip tugged into a smile, she pushed up to kiss him gently.  

He leaned his forehead against her, his amber eyes rimmed with red, and she gave him a small smile.  "Need help?" 

He managed to shift to his back and get his feet onto the bed, leaving Talia to straighten his blankets and tuck him in.  He watched her without speaking, eyes following her every move.  "Be here when I wake up?"  He asked softly when she finished, and she leaned down and kissed his cheek. 

"Of course," she promised.  By the time she stood and put the guard rail back up, knowing he could easily slip into another nightmare, he was asleep. 

With a deep breath, she pushed the hair out of her face with shaking hands.  Every muscle in her body felt strangled with the urge to run, to abandon this hospital room and all the problems it contained.  Some nagging part in the back of her mind questioned why she hadn't taken the out Cullen had offered her. 

She'd wondered when they'd end, and if.  It wasn't what she wanted, not if she were honest with herself, but everything that was happening… it was overwhelming.  She'd been holding together by a thread all this time, by the continued beeps of his heart-rate monitor and the steady drip of his IV, and now that she knew he was going to be okay, her self-control was fraying before her eyes. 

With a deep breath, she opened the door to his room and closed it deliberately so it didn't wake him.  And when it clicked shut, Talia fell heavily against the wall outside his room, her hands over her mouth, and tried to choke back the sobs that tried to escape. 

“Are you all right?”  Cassandra asked quietly.  Talia jumped; she hadn’t noticed the Seeker waiting opposite her. 

"I'm fine," she said, tears coloring her voice, and Cassandra grunted. 

"I don't believe you." 

"No, really, I'm…"  Whatever had been holding everything back broke then, and the tears finally escaped, blurring her vision as her shoulders started shaking.   "I don't know, Cass.  I don't know." 

Her friend stepped closer and tucked an arm around her shoulders as she cried.  "You should go home and rest," she suggested.  "Some food and a real bed will help." 

Talia shook her head as she tried to stem her tears. "I don't want to leave.  He's asleep, but I need to be here." 

"I can watch him for a while," Cassandra said, stepping away to give Talia some space.  "You're not helping him if you are too exhausted to function, and it's not over yet." 

Her head snapped up.  "What?"

Cassandra sighed.  “I have been monitoring him for a long time, and I suspected something worse was coming.  But he refuses to be honest with me about his symptoms,” she said with a shriveling glare at the door to his room.  "It will happen again, and though it may be less serious next time, he will need help." 

Talia stared at her for a moment, her chin trembling, and the question she'd been dreading to ask spilled out of her.  "Is this even possible, though? Because Cullen doesn't seem to think so."  

One eyebrow arched up.  "What do you mean?" 

Talia shrugged, her shoulders shaking.  "He told me what happened at Kinloch, and in Kirkwall.  And he said he can't put me through this, that he doesn't want me to watch him die.  I told him he didn't have to ask because I'm not going anywhere, but… Cass, this is all too much.  What if he's right, what if…" 

Cassandra pulled her into a hug before she realized what was happening, and to her surprise, she started sobbing again the second the Seeker touched her.  She didn’t flinch, only held her tighter and let Talia cry herself out.  She didn’t honestly know if it was for herself or for Cullen, but it didn’t matter now.

"He can do this, Talia," Cassandra said gently when her sobs had slowed.  "He's angry, and in pain, and he doesn't have any idea what he's capable of.  I knew he could do it when I met him, and I knew when he came to me with his decision.  He's just… being foolish." 

Talia pulled back as she wiped her eyes.  "Why didn't he just tell you it was this bad?  Or tell me?” 

To her surprise, the Seeker laughed.  "Have you ever seen him ask for help?"  She waited expectantly for a response,  her arms folded across her chest, and eventually Talia shook her head.  "That's because he won't.  Templars have never made their suffering known.  They are bound to the Order, mind and soul, with someone always holding their lyrium leash.  Cullen has a chance to break that leash, to prove to himself -- and anyone who would follow suit -- that it's possible." 

 She avoided her gaze, instead watching her hands as she picked at what remained of her nails.  "What if it doesn’t work? Or if he’s in pain like that forever?  You said there can be hallucinations, and memory loss…” 

She had felt so sure when she looked at Cullen's terrified face, those eyes wide and scared, the trembling of his chin as he tried to hold himself together.  He needed her in that moment, and he would probably need her in many more to come.  Part of her desperately wanted to be strong enough for him, but she couldn't deny that she was scared, down to her core, of someone dependent on her. 

It was not an unfamiliar feeling.  She'd never had a life where someone needed her to function any in capacity, healthy or unhealthy.  Her family didn't care, her friends outside the show let her be until she initiated contact, her brother mainly texted her when he'd been drinking, and her dog could pretty much take care of himself as long as she gave him food. 

But it wasn't a feeling she wanted. 

She'd told Cullen the truth: He didn't have to ask her to stay, because she wasn't going anywhere.  But she also hadn't thought past the immediacy of his hospital stay.  What if he was right, and she couldn't be there through the rest of this?  What if, as he'd said, she couldn't watch him die?

Cassandra hadn't replied, only waited in silence for Talia to finish. 

“I don’t know if I can be strong enough for him,” she said finally, her voice a whisper.

The Seeker studied her for a moment.  “I understand,” she replied slowly.  “But please… don’t give up on him.  Or yourself.” 

Talia sighed and wished for a tissue to blow her nose.

"I don't want to," she answered.  "But Maker, it's so hard to watch him suffer." 

The Seeker nodded.  "I know.  I wonder if perhaps it is easier to watch as a friend," she said honestly.  There was a pause before she continued.  "Can I convince you to go home and rest for a while?  Varric made soup, and I’m sure Dorian has some ridiculous relaxation method set up to help you sleep.  Come back in a few hours.”  She glanced at Cullen’s room.  “He needs rest too, and then things will be better.” 

Talia couldn’t help her smile.  Cassandra had apparently rallied their housemates to take care of her, and why shouldn’t she?  They were all worried about Cullen, and her by extension.  They cared about her.  The warm feeling in her chest was refreshing after hours of nothing but worry and pain.  “I… Thank you.” 

“I’ll sit with him,” Cassandra replied.  “The nurse should be by to check on him in a minute, and hopefully he's still resting.  Just… try to relax and not worry about him for a little while." 

She wiped her eyes one last time.  "I'm not sure that's possible, but I'll try." 

\---

Talia took her time walking back into the hospital that evening.  After Cassandra sent her back to Skyhold, she'd actually tried to relax a little.  Sera bombarded her with questions about Cullen until Blackwall made her stop, and Dorian gathered most of the house to watch Antivan soap operas on the old TV/VCR combo he'd found in the attic.  Varric stuffed her with soup and ice cream while she watched, and eventually Iron Bull sent her off to bed, standing guard at her door so she could get some sleep. 

She actually felt refreshed by the time she headed back to the hospital in the late afternoon.  She didn't know what she was going to do about her future with Cullen, but Cassandra had been right -- she felt better with a little rest. 

But no doubt he had woken while she'd been gone, and guilt gnawed at her insides.  Surely Cassandra had been there with him, but the Seeker hadn't promised to stay.  Talia had, and she'd broken it. 

Logically, she knew she had needed to go back to Skyhold and rest.  The past days had been harrowing; she needed to take at least a little care of herself.  And she'd been a little selfish in leaving too -- she was trying to be strong for him, but one instance where he needed her wasn't going to break a years-long habit of looking out for herself.  They'd been dating less than two weeks, and all she'd done was try to take care of him.   It was a lot of ask of her, even if she wanted to give it. 

None of that changed that she felt terrible for going home and sleeping.  He was hurting, physically and emotionally; he needed a friend, and more than that, he needed someone to be there for him, to listen to him. 

Cassandra had been right: He needed someone who wouldn't give up on him. 

So as she walked back into the hospital, navigating the twists and turns of its hallways as she tried to locate his room, Talia thought about what she wanted. 

She'd spent a lot of her life pulling away from people.  After the accident killed her brother, and the false accusations that landed her in the Circle where she didn't belong from another brother, she'd left.  William was the only family she kept in contact with; no one else likely even knew she was still alive, unless they watched the show.  She'd made friends, and not lowly ones; Alistair Theirin and his wife and Queen, Alana Cousland, were some of her closest.  But she didn’t see them -- she pulled away, moved to the capital of the opposite country so she couldn’t somehow get hurt.  They cared about her, but they let her go anyway, let her go to seek whatever peace she'd been unable to find in a life on the move. 

Perhaps she was just as damaged, even if her baggage didn’t put her in the hospital. 

As she hesitated outside Cullen's room, she realized that was what she liked about this show.  She couldn't run away, enough if she wanted to, and that meant the friendships she was forming were more stable than anything in her life to this point.  She wanted to be here, and for the first time, she'd found a person she wanted to take care of instead of running away from them, if she was tough enough. 

She just had to hope he wouldn't give up on her, either. 

Cullen was lying in bed when she opened the door, eyes closed.  His fingers were drumming restlessly against his chest, their movement only stilling when he turned and saw her.  He scrambled to sit up, tugging the tubes in his arm as he moved. 

"You came back," he croaked.  Those same deep purple shadows lingered under his eyes. 

She gave him a smile from the doorway.  "I did.  Can I come in?"

"Please," he replied, nodding, and he reached for a cup on his nightstand as she sat down next to the bed. 

"I'm sorry I left, Cullen," she began.  He choked on his water, sending the cup spilling down his chest. 

"What? Why?"  he managed as he tried to wipe his mouth.  The water had soaked into his gown, turning it translucent against his skin.  "Shit."  He grabbed for the cup as Talia went for a towel from his bathroom, and they spent several awkward minutes trying to dry him off as well as they could. 

The gown was still stuck to him even then.  "You need a new outfit," Talia teased, and even though it was a bad joke, Cullen still smiled at her. 

"I never said I was fashionable," he replied, that crooked smile she'd so missed gracing his face.  "Can we start again?" 

She nodded, sitting in the chair nearest the bed.  "I was saying that I'm sorry I left, before," she said. 

"And I asked why," he replied seriously. 

"I promised I'd be here when you woke up, and I wasn't," Talia said.  She'd honestly assumed this was self-explanatory.  "Cassandra sent me home to sleep." 

He touched her hand before pulling away like he wasn't sure he'd be welcomed.  "She told me.  It's okay, I understand."   Talia nodded, her gaze fixed on her hands in her lap.  She needed to find a way to tell him she really was there with him, that she wasn't going anywhere, but she didn't know how to begin. 

"That's not all," she said, and she heard his breathing pause.   For a moment, all she heard was the slow, steady beep of his heart rate on the repaired screen.  "I… didn't think I could deal with all of this.  What you were saying had happened to you, and what you'd done.  What could still happen with the lyrium withdrawal." 

Cullen studied her.  "What changed?" 

That wasn't the question she'd been expecting.  "I… don't know.  Nothing, I guess.  I just… I like who you are now." 

That brought back his lopsided smile.  "I'm sorry I never told you before.  I wanted to, but… I was scared.  Maker knows, you finding all that out from me shouting about it in a hospital was not my plan."  He hesitated, his gaze dropping.  "And I'm sorry for how I acted." 

Talia touched his leg, the closest part of him she could reach.  "It's okay, Cullen.  It's just all a little overwhelming.  I'm scared for you." 

"I never meant to cause you pain," he said, stretching out to grasp her hand.  She took it cautiously, and he squeezed her fingers.  There was a single stitch in what had been the widest cut on his knuckles.  "And I certainly did not mean to put myself in the hospital." 

"They wanted to give you lyrium, you know," she told him, and he nodded. 

"Cassandra told me."  He gave her a small smile.  "She also told me how upset you were when the healers suggested it.  Thank you." 

"Of course."  She didn't know what else to say.  She wasn't sure she'd ever been in a relationship that had survived a first real fight, let alone anything like what this had been.  How did you move past that? 

Cullen must have felt something similar.  "Cass also said you stayed with me all last night," he began.  "You didn't have to do that." 

"I wanted to," she said automatically. 

He grimaced.  "Still… it's okay, I mean, if you… don't want to be with me after seeing all this."  He couldn't look at her when he said it, and Talia's heart nearly broke at the pain in his voice.  He must have felt he had to give her an out again. 

But she'd already made that decision.  "Cullen," she said, tugging gently at his hand until he met her eyes.  "I like you today, and I'll still like you tomorrow." 

He studied her.  "Are you sure?" 

"I'll admit, I'm scared," she said, squeezing his hand when he started to say something.  "But I want to be with you." 

The cloud over his face dissipated as he smiled.  "I'm glad," he said.  Then he blushed hard enough that his ears went pink.  "I can't get up yet, though Maker knows I tried, but would you be willing to, uh… to come over here so I can kiss you?" 

Talia couldn't help it; she hesitated, just for a second, and his expression crumbled.  "I'm sorry, that's probably too forward of me," he murmured as his gaze dropped.  "I just…" 

She got up and perched on the edge of his bed, though she kept her hands in her lap.  "Tell me," she asked softly. 

He glanced at her and then away, and she was struck by how swollen the flesh around his eyes looked, as if he'd spent most of the afternoon fighting off tears.  Whatever hesitations she had suddenly didn't seem so important.  Gently she reached over and cupped his jaw in her hand, bending down to brush her lips against his cheek.  "Tell me," she repeated without moving away, the scruff on his face scratching at her skin. 

His hand came up to grasp the back of her head, his fingers buried in her hair.  "I need to know you are real," he whispered against her cheek.  "I was so afraid I'd ruined things, but you came back, and I… I care about you." 

"Oh, Cullen."  Her forehead pressed against him before she kissed him, his lips meeting hers eagerly as he hugged her close.  She didn't realize she was crying again until she tasted the salt on his skin.  "I don't want to lose you." 

He smiled, his own eyes wet.  "I'm not going anywhere." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just FYI, my posting schedule might be slowing to every two weeks -- the new school year is starting, and I'm not sure how much time I'll have to write. However, my other story, An Ever-Fixed Mark, will be posting regularly, so you can always swing over [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7487067/chapters/17016639) and check it out in the meantime! 
> 
> As always, thanks for reading!


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the long delay! Getting back into the swing of teaching is always a huge pain. On the plus side: This chapter is extra-long so you all will forgive me for not posting it yet, AND the next chapter is both written and NSFW :) 
> 
> Thanks for sticking with me!

            Two days later, the healers let Cullen come home.  Not to Kirkwall – to Skyhold.  He surprised himself with how easily it had transitioned into home, that grand Orlesian estate they’d named for some lost castle.  All along, he’d known that having Cassandra there would help him feel comfortable, but he hadn’t anticipated how easily his housemates had become his friends.  Some distant part of him missed Kirkwall, not for the city itself but for his work and his colleagues and friends back there, but it was lessened in the face of walking up that long gravel driveway to the house. 

            They’d been a long two days of course.  Talia had slept on the couch in his room again the second night after they couldn’t figure out how to comfortably fit two people into a hospital bed.  Though he wanted to sleep with her curled around him, Cullen didn’t regret it too terribly – they’d have plenty of time to spend together back home, Maker willing, and he was still exhausted.  Still prone to nightmares.  Still hadn’t shared a bed in years, maybe ever.  He didn’t want to threaten anything, not after how he’d shouted and carried on about his weaknesses. 

            But after that, the show hadn’t allowed her to stay overnight again, and so he’d spent the last night in the hospital alone and restless, wishing they could cram together in that tiny hospital bed if only so she could be there with him. 

            And of course, he hadn’t made anything easy on his healers.  His primary was a kind older man who’d studied healing for decades but didn’t seem to know anything about lyrium.  He in fact several times suggested that Cullen simply take it again to ease his symptoms, which led to an argument Cassandra had to break up.  The nurses were more sympathetic, but they recognized there was little the hospital could do except keep him hydrated.  It didn’t take Cullen long to draw the conclusion that he was basically as well off at home as he was there. 

            It didn’t help that they wouldn’t let him do anything at all – not get out of bed, not walk the halls, not even pee by himself. 

            When Cassandra finally arrived to escort him home – along with Josephine, who wanted to do some kind of ‘confessional’ in the hospital room which he quickly denied – Cullen was bored out of his mind. 

            Despite this, he worried over returning to Skyhold all through the long ride back, legs bouncing without him realizing.  Would he be able to get himself up the stairs to the library?  When could he start running again?  The healers had told him to give it at least a week before he pushed his body that far, and privately he agreed.  It was still difficult to get up by himself (much as he didn’t want to admit it).  He was antsy, but still limited. 

            And then there was everything else.  Would Varric tease him over being sick, or Dorian?  Would Sera insist on sitting practically on his lap like she always seemed to when she was feeling clingy? Maybe they hadn’t really cared that he was gone – he often hid in the library or gym, so maybe it wasn’t obvious that he wasn’t there.  And how had the show handled it, since they couldn’t film him in the hospital?

            The anxiety started to ease as he saw Skyhold rise in the distance.  At least Talia would be there with him, and that gave him some relief.  He wouldn’t be alone. 

            The car slowed to a stop near the door, and Cassandra jumped out to get his pitiful duffle bag.  It was just a big book and what little clothes he’d still been wearing when they got him to the ER – he could have retrieved it himself.  But he was grateful he didn’t have to. 

            Slowly Cullen maneuvered himself out of the car.  The question of why Cassandra had come to get him was still gnawing at him, one of many he couldn’t answer yet. He hoped the anxiety wasn’t about to come rushing back. 

            Then he looked up at the door to the house, and every lingering doubt washed away. 

            Talia was standing on the steps beaming at him, her face nearly split in two with her smile.  Behind her waited almost everyone else: Iron Bull, Blackwall, Dorian, Varric with that sardonic grin, Sera bouncing as she waited, even Vivienne toward the back.  As he walked toward them, Sera started waving frantically and Dorian wolf-whistled of all things, but he only saw Talia as she came to meet him. 

            Wherever the camera was, this shot was why she hadn’t picked him up at the hospital.  She was visibly holding herself back from jumping on him, her steps quick but not running as she moved.  He could see her blinking rapidly as though to keep from crying and wished he was strong enough to pick her up, silly as that was.  But she didn’t hesitate to slid her arms around him and hug him close, her grip tight as though it’d been months, not days, since they’d seen each other. 

            “I’m so glad you’re home,” she whispered as she hugged him, and Cullen squeezed her close. 

            “Me too.”  He kissed her cheek, touch lingering because he was finally able to hold her again and Maker’s breath, he’d missed it. 

            Then someone else crashed into them, nearly bowling them over, and he let go of Talia to catch Sera in a one-armed embrace.  “Missed you, Cully,” the elf mumbled before she tumbled away.  Gradually his housemates – _friends_ , he reminded himself – all came to greet him, full of hugs and gestures of good will for his health that he’d never expected.  Iron Bull even clapped him on the back hard enough that he stumbled, prompting Talia to give the big qunari a dirty look even as she installed herself at Cullen’s side. 

            "You can hit him later, Bull," she laughed as she put her arm around him.  "For now, let him relax." 

            Dorian laughed.  "When you've sufficiently relaxed him, you should join us at the pool," he said with a wink.  Cullen flushed, but Talia stuck her tongue out at the man. 

            "Don't be jealous just because you aren't getting any attention," she teased. 

            "Sorry, darling, I don't want attention from you," he sniffed, sticking his nose in the air even as he planted one hand firmly on Iron Bull's backside.  "Come on, Bull, let's leave these two scoundrels alone." 

            Cassandra handed off Cullen's bag as she followed Varric and the others inside.  "If you need anything, let me know," she cautioned. 

            "Of course, Cassandra, thank you," Cullen replied, and Talia nodded her thanks as well.  Blackwall hung back a little and gave Cullen a brisk handshake. 

            "Glad to see you back up and about," he rumbled.  With a glance at Talia, he smiled.  "Did she tell you the plan yet?" 

            Cullen turned to see Talia smirking at him.  "Not yet." 

            Blackwall chuckled.  "She's borrowing my bed for a few days so she can keep an eye on you.  And you aren't to worry one bit about where I'm resting my head," he added before Cullen could protest.  "It'll be good for you both." 

            He was outmaneuvered before he ever had a chance.  "I… Thank you, Blackwall," he said, giving the older man a nod.  "I appreciate the sacrifice." 

            "It's nothing, Cullen," he said, heading inside.  "I'm just glad to have my spotter back." 

            Once he'd gone, Cullen gave Talia a sideways look.  "What else changed while I was, you know, gone?" 

            She kept right on smiling.  "You'll have to wait and see." 

Carefully Talia navigated them through the house, keeping her arm tucked around him.  Cullen leaned on her, grateful for the stability though he wouldn’t admit it.  He had no trouble moving around on his own -- they wouldn't have let him go home otherwise -- but he couldn't deny that even the car ride was starting to wear on him. 

            And underneath his bravado, he liked how protective Talia was being.  It was too easy to brush the last few days, and his underlying withdrawal, off as being of little importance, but she didn't give him the option. 

"Have I thanked you lately for taking care of me?"  He asked as they stepped into his room. 

            "You're welcome, just like the last time you thanked me," she replied, tossing his small bag on the foot of his bed.  Cullen followed, dropping onto his blankets and heaving a sigh.  His room had been cleaned, his books piled carefully and his sheets folded into crisp corners.  Cassandra’s doing, he was willing to bet.  And someone had remembered to hang up his suit jacket; he could see it through the crack in his closet door.  That screamed of Dorian. 

            And the stuffed mabari on the bed across from him was all Talia. 

Cullen smiled. It was good to be home. 

            Talia cleared her throat, and Cullen nearly jumped.  He must have zoned out a bit, the lines on her face evidence of her concern.  “You okay?”  she questioned softly. 

Eager to avoid upsetting this tenuous welcome home, he reached for her, pulling her down laughing to sit in his lap.  “Perfect,” he said, brushing his nose into her hair. 

Talia giggled.  “Good, because we threw you a welcome home party.” 

Cullen pulled back to look at her.  "Really? Why?"  He had trouble imagining a less party-worthy event. 

Talia shrugged before lacing her fingers through his.  "You know us slackers.  Any excuse to barbecue and hang out by the pool."  She bumped her shoulder against his chest gently.  “You don’t have to go if you don’t want.” 

Catching her chin with his fingertips, he turned her so he could see her face.  “I want lots of things,” he said softly, brushing his lips over hers.  Instead of kissing him back, Talia laughed, and Cullen pulled away abruptly.  “What?”   

“Your beard tickles.” 

Cullen groaned.  “Maker, I hate this thing,” he grumbled, leaning back to scrub a hand over his face.  His normal stubble had grown into a nearly full beard over the past week, and it itched like mad. 

He caught Talia smiling at him as he rubbed at his jaw. 

“Might I suggest a shave?”  she asked, running her fingertips along his cheek. 

One arm still wrapped around her, Cullen nodded.  “I need a shower too.”  That didn’t change that he didn’t want to move.  Or bother her.  “If you want to go outside and I’ll meet you…”  He ventured, hiding how he hoped she’d stay with him. 

“Not a chance,” she replied, leaning back against him.  “You’re stuck with me.” 

            They sat in silence for a moment, just being together, before Cullen thought of something.  “You aren’t allowed to leave me by myself, are you?”  

            “Nope.  Cassandra’s orders,” Talia answered plainly.  She twisted and kissed his shoulder.  “And I don’t want to anyway.  I missed you.” 

            Cullen didn’t reply, only leaned to kiss the side of her head.  He wanted too many things: to scoop her up and kiss her senseless, to go shave and shower and feel like a human again, to lean back on his bed and sleep, to abandon this whole show experiment if only to have a moment of privacy with her beside him.  Dropping his forehead against her hair, he sighed. 

            She must have noticed his indecision, for she squeezed her arm around him before shifting to stand.  Cullen, however, caught her before she could get away. 

            “Come on,” she said, smiling.  “Let’s go get you cleaned up.” 

            He cocked an eyebrow at her.  “What if I want to stay here?” 

            She laughed. “None of that now,” she said, though the teasing undertone of her voice suggested otherwise.  "Shower first, then shave, and we'll go join your party." 

            She waited in the bathroom while he showered, scrubbing days' worth of hospital grime off his skin.  How he could get so dirty just from sitting and sleeping, Cullen had no idea, but the freshness of finally being clean felt amazing.  Talia talked to him as he bathed, regaling him with her new-found friendship with his sister.  He knew she'd had to call Mia to tell her he was in the hospital, but Maker, he hadn't realized that they were about to gang up on him. 

            "Maker’s breath, tell me she didn't invite you over for Satinalia already," he grumbled as he turned off the shower.  Pulling back the curtain just enough to see, he flicked water at her.  "Would you pass me a towel?" 

            Talia stuck her tongue out at him even as she tossed it to him.  "You want to know, you gotta call Mia," she replied, and he rolled his eyes.  Dropping the curtain back in place, he dried himself off quickly.  Too much longer being naked with her nearby, and his mind was going to wander. 

            His beautiful girlfriend's teasing wasn't helping.  "Hey, you want your clothes, or are you gonna parade around Skyhold naked for everyone to see?" 

            He leaned his head through the curtain.  "I'll spare the rest of them," he managed over the blood rushing to …places. 

            She smirked.  "Don't tempt me to join you in there," she teased, her laughter light-hearted.  Cullen fought down another rush of blood.   Maker, he'd enjoy that a little too much.  Too soon.  They had time, plenty of time, and he could only imagine that anything sexual was probably on his "forbidden activities" list for a while longer yet anyway. 

            Nonetheless, he smiled to discover that whatever tension had been simmering between them during their date night hadn't cooled entirely by his hospital stay. 

            "Maybe next time," he teased back.  "Clothes please?" 

            Grabbing them from the counter, Talia held them behind her back as she came closer.  "You'll have to make it worth my while." 

            Maker's breath, any more of that and he'd be throwing the curtain aside, withdrawal or no.  "I, um… think I'm going to have to owe you," he said, swallowing. 

            "Deal."  She pressed a quick kiss to his lips.  "But don't think I'll forget the debt I'm owed." 

            He accepted the clothes when she offered them.  "I'm good for it, I promise."  He dressed swiftly, the athletic shorts and t-shirt looser on his frame than he remembered, and emerged to find Talia playing with her hair in the mirror.  She flashed him a smile as he emerged, eyes tracing low over his figure. 

            Grabbing his razor, Cullen tried to ignore the desire on her face.  Something had shifted in stepping across Skyhold’s threshold, and he wasn’t quite sure what it was, some light, cozy feeling smoldering deep in his chest. 

            The oversized sink in the bathroom waited, and he lathered up and got started.  He hated shaving; he was always sporting stubble in lieu of the chore, but an actual beard was too much.  Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Talia smirking at him as he worked, rinsing the razor with each pass over his cheeks. 

            They were the picture of domesticity standing there together, he shaving and she brushing her hair.   It was a situation that, only weeks before, would have bothered him – not for any fear of commitment nor anything so juvenile, but for the simple fact that he had never experienced it.  Any relationship in his life had had an expiration date he could pinpoint from the start, and most were the next morning or the next week from whenever Raleigh and Delrin had pressured him into actually talking to a woman instead of spending his evenings with paperwork and old war movies.   His longest relationship was still the crush he’d had on a mage in Kinloch Hold, and all things considered, that wasn’t a relationship. 

            And Cassandra, stalwart best friend that she was, had never even seen the inside of his apartment. 

            But with Talia… For the first time in his life, he couldn’t picture how he’d end things.  They must have an expiration date – _maybe not_ , some tiny hopeful part of him suggested – but he couldn’t think when it might be, or what he might say.  The more he thought about it, the more Cullen realized he couldn’t imagine a scenario where he would want her to leave, and it was this feeling more than any other that he embraced as he stood at the counter, shaving his face while she stood beside him. 

            It was new, and he wasn’t sure what to do with the feeling yet.  Weeks ago as their friendship had been growing he’d noticed it, that pleasant uncertainty about their future.  But standing here now, on the other side of what Cullen could only imagine should have sent her running, he wasn’t going to fret over it.  He was content knowing they were there together.  

            He didn’t jump when Talia’s hands touched his back, but he was surprised all the same.  He kept shaving, movements careful and measured, as she ran her hands up and down his back, but his nerves tingled to life as she slid her hands beneath his shirt to run over his skin. Gradually she sank against him until her forehead rested against his spine.  

            “I like this,” she whispered into his t-shirt.  “I’m… not sure how to explain it, but I like it.”

            He didn’t reply as she traced her fingertips over his abs and hips, taking in the lines of his body.  He knew what she meant, despite being unable to voice whatever this was. 

            Her hands didn’t leave him, settling instead around his waist as he finished shaving, rinsed his razor, and swiped the towel over his face to get the last bits of foam.  Dropping it on the sink, he bent to wash his face and Talia straightened, their eyes meeting in the mirror. 

            She stared at him, her lips curved in a small smile and her eyes dark.  Cullen’s gaze never left her as he tossed a spray of cold water over his cheeks, rinsing away the last vestiges of the hospital.  Her hands stayed still, warm puddles against his skin. 

            His pulse climbed as he watched her watch him, those emerald eyes intent and searching.  What did she see in him to inspire such intensity?  He didn’t know.  No one had ever looked at him the way she was looking now, and as he slowly dried his face, he felt her hands move to rest on his hips. 

            Cullen didn’t move, only waited. 

            That smile curved a little more as she caught the hem of his shirt.  She pushed it up just enough to bare his skin before she paused.  “Can I…”  Through the mirror, Cullen nodded. 

            His t-shirt bunched over her wrists as she ran her hands up his sides, and he shivered involuntarily.  He’d never known someone undressing him could feel so electric. 

            He straightened as her hands reached his bent shoulders, hands catching the shirt in front and pulling it over his head without hesitation.  In another life, he might have paused.  Every scar on his back was visible to her now, the mistakes of his life mapped across his body.  But she traced them just as gently as the rest of him, acceptance and not revulsion in her touch.  She _wanted_ to touch him, and so he let her. 

            Emotion rolled through his chest, his heart thundering against his ribcage.  He couldn’t remember anyone touching him with such delicate care as she was now.  It was hard to believe he'd only known her two months. 

            She looped her arms around his waist once more, her cheek pressed to his back, and Cullen let his own hands drift down to rest over hers.  For a moment, she didn’t move.  Then he felt her take a deep, wavering breath against his back, and it was this that finally broke him.

            “Come here,” he said, the words more choked than he’d anticipated.  Talia leaned away as he turned in her arms, her hands never quite leaving him, and then he was kissing her, mouth open and warm as he crushed her against his bare chest.  Though she kissed him back, he felt the hesitation in her muscles, the tension she clung to like she wasn't sure this was okay yet.  So he kissed her slowly, fighting to keep himself under control as she gradually met every press of his lips.  Her soft lips parted under the intrusion of his tongue, and heat rose in his belly when she groaned and pulled him closer. 

            Cullen wasn't aware of how the kiss morphed until it had already happened, becoming a hot and hungry thing between them.  He plunged his tongue into her mouth, a crude imitation of what he suddenly, desperately, wanted to do to her, and he was abruptly aware that he was hard, throbbing against her hip through the athletic shorts he wore.  She gasped but didn't move away, if anything pressed closer. 

            With roaming touches, he grabbed her ass, unable to resist and only remembering that she was wearing a skirt when his hand encountered the lightweight fabric floating around her legs.  With a groan he couldn't quite silence, he pulled her hard against him.  Talia responded in kind, grabbing him in return as her other hand dug into the flesh of his back. 

            Maker forgive him, if he were a better man he would have had the strength to resist, but he wasn't, and he couldn't.  He reached down, found skin below her skirt and slid his hand back up, catching the curve of her ass in his palm.  Her skin was warm, so warm, the line of her panties digging into her flesh below his palm. 

            In that second, he was sure he couldn't get any harder. 

            "Maker, I want you," she gasped as he grabbed her, her lips so briefly parted from his that he wondered if she'd even realized she spoke.  No matter -- his own desire was obvious against her body, Cullen nearly dizzy with lust after so long, and so stressful, a time apart.  He hadn't realized just how much seeing her every day soothed him, the missed opportunities of minute kisses and fleeting touches tamping down how badly he wanted to push things further. 

            And as she tugged him closer, grinding his erection against her, it was obvious she felt the same.   She leaned against him, letting him support her weight.  Her leg rose to brush his hip, and he tried to pull her around him, his legs shaking with the effort.  Even as he dug his fingers into her long bare thigh, he realized that this wasn't desire -- this was exhaustion, and with a pained groan, he broke the kiss and pulled back. 

            Talia disentangled herself without asking why. 

            For a long minute, Cullen leaned against the sink and tried to catch his breath.  It was surprisingly difficult, chest heaving as he rubbed his hand over his forehead, bright with embarrassment.   "Maker, I'm sorry," he mumbled without looking up. 

            She touched his cheek.  "Don't be," she said, face equally flushed. 

            "I shouldn’t have touched you like that without asking," he muttered, still not looking up.  His arousal was deflating rapidly, blood needed elsewhere as his heart rate started to slow. 

            "Cullen."  Talia stepped close again, the warm weight of her body resting against his.  Her other hand reached to cup his face, and she lifted his chin to look at her.  A small smile danced on her lips.  "If you'd done something I didn't like, I would have stopped you."  She leaned in and kissed him, her eyes drifting closed as he looped his arms around her and kissed her back.  When she pulled away, she pressed her forehead against his.  "You don't have to second-guess yourself." 

            He squeezed her.  "It's… hard to believe you really want me sometimes." 

            "I do."  She shifted to hug him.  "Please trust me." 

            Cullen nodded as he held her.  He could do that.  He could trust her.  It didn’t meant he wouldn't ask for permission before touching her, nor that he would heal any faster, but she deserved that from him. 

            When they'd been silent a long time, he cleared his throat.  "You're not… upset?  That I groped you, I mean?" 

            She leaned back to look him in the eye before she reached and grabbed his rear end. "I don't think you call it groping if you both want it," she said lightly, giving him a squeeze.   He flushed. 

            "I… all right." 

            She slid her hand up to rest on his lower back.  "Maybe we can try it again another time and make sure?"  He thought he heard a hopeful note in her voice, and he finally smiled. 

            "I would like that."  He kissed her again, as sweet and warm as he could without sparking anything. 

            "After you get a little better, then," she agreed before she slipped out of his arms.  "For now, we have a pool party to get to."  Retrieving his shirt from the floor, she passed it to him, and Cullen slipped it over his head. 

            "I don't know that I'll participate much," he said hesitantly, swiping one hand over his freshly shaven chin. 

            Talia smiled.  "I know. But they wanted to do something for you, and I figured you could just relax and enjoy being home." 

            Cullen caught her around the waist as she started for the door, hauling her back until his chest bumped her shoulders.  Though she hesitated for a moment, she quickly relaxed against him, hands coming to rest over his.  "Have I thanked you lately?" 

            With a giggle, she leaned away, spinning to face him as she backed toward the door.  "You said you'd owe me, remember?"  She winked as she kicked the door open, and Cullen followed even as his blood heated in his veins. 

            He was looking forward to it. 

            It wouldn't be that night though -- in the least surprising event of a very long day, Cullen fell asleep on a lawn chair halfway through the pool party. 

            He wasn't even aware of it until Talia wedged into the chair with him, her long legs thrown over his lap.   When he opened his eyes, she was grinning. 

            "What?"  He swiped a hand over his face.  He already had stubble. 

            "You were snoring a little," she replied. 

            "I don't snore," Cullen grunted automatically.  "And I wasn't asleep anyway."   

            She just laughed.  Looping her arms around his neck, she leaned against his chest.  Cullen's hands found their way to her legs, resting along her thighs as they watched the others.  The pool party had turned into what looked like a game of jousting -- Sera and Cassandra were sitting on Blackwall's and Iron Bull's shoulders fighting with pool noodles.  Cassandra was winning, but only just as Dorian was busy trying to tickle Iron Bull into dropping her.   From the shallow end, Varric and Vivienne were shouting encouragement. 

            Something clicked.  "You aren't wearing a swimsuit," he observed to Talia, kissing her shoulder gently.   He couldn't remember ever seeing her in a swimsuit; surely such an event would have been burned into his memory. 

            "I didn't want to swim tonight," she explained without turning.  "And I don't really wear my bikini anyway, so you aren't missing anything." 

            The memory of the scar that had crept from beneath her shirt the day they did yoga together swam to the surface of his mind.  Just like him, she didn't want to expose herself on camera.  "I understand." 

            She glanced at him, hesitating when she saw the look on his face.  "Someday, okay?"  They'd never talked about it explicitly, this revealing of themselves to each other.  But today he'd let her take off his shirt, the first time in years he'd so bared himself.  All he could hope was that she'd trust him the same way. 

            "Okay."  He kissed her back again, squeezing her against his chest.  "I missed you," he said into her skin as his eyes travelled over their housemates in the pool.  Cassandra's death-grip on one of Bull's horns was the only thing keeping her upright as Sera assaulted her with the pool noodle. 

            "Come inside with me?"  She shifted to look at him, a hopeful expression on her face, and he nodded. 

            "It's a little early for bed," he teased, giving the sunset beyond Skyhold a significant look. 

            "Who said anything about sleep?"  She asked, climbing off him and offering a hand to help him up.  He accepted, the sudden weight of his body surprising after so long off his feet.  Apparently he wasn't as recovered as he'd like to think. 

            Before she could saunter away, a smirk on her lips, Cullen caught her and wrapped her up in his arms.  Tired or no, he wasn't so exhausted as to let her teasing go unmatched.  "Maker, woman, you'll be the end of me," he rumbled low in her ear.  She squirmed in his arms, wiggling until she was pressed against him with her arms around his neck. 

            She opened her mouth to speak, eyebrows raised to look at him before she shook her head and leaned in.  "With the things that voice of yours does to me," she whispered, lips brushing his ear.  "It'll be a fair payback."  Cullen shivered. 

            He didn't know if their body language gave them away, or if perhaps the Seeker's senses were just attuned to interrupting them, but Cassandra shouted "Cullen! You need sleep, not --!"  She tumbled into the pool, her warning cut off with a shriek as Sera finally toppled her from Bull's shoulders. 

            "Come on, Cully, go do her!" Sera shouted in his general direction.  Cullen went scarlet as Dorian and Bull hooted. 

            "Sera, stop!" Talia shouted at the elf, a note in her voice that suggested maybe she had similar ideas on her mind.  The rest of them laughed at the nearly purple color she'd blushed. 

            "I mean it," growled Cassandra, wiping water from her eyes as she stood up.  She was wearing her mythical bikini, a bright geometric pattern standing in stark contrast to her pale skin.  Cullen looked away from her quickly -- Cass was like a sister, he didn't want to know what she looked like -- only to meet the matching leers on Varric's and Dorian's faces.  

            "Don't do anything too strenuous," Varric suggested with a wink as Dorian added, "Maybe if you're on the bottom?" 

            "Maker's breath," he muttered, training his gaze on the ground.  Maybe the concrete would help somehow. 

            No luck.  Talia tugged him away from the pool, her face still crimson as the others laughed and offered advice.  They passed Vivienne just before the patio door, and the mage gave them a simpering smile.  "You do have protection, right darling?"  She asked Talia, who muttered, "Oh, for fuck's sake!" and ignored her. 

            "I um," Cullen said in reply, his lips unable to form words at this suggestion. 

            Vivienne shrugged and returned to the magazine tossed across her lap.  "Let me know, dear." 

            Once safely in the living room, Talia dropped onto the couch and put her head in her hands.  "Andraste's tits, why are they all so concerned with our sex life?"  She groaned.  "We don't even have a sex life." 

            Cullen sat down next to her, leaning his shoulder against hers.  "Someday we will," he said, feeling awkward.  The sentiment, while genuine, felt silly somehow.  "I mean… I'd like us to?"  That was worse.  "I'm sorry, I'm not good at this." 

            Talia, to his surprise, chuckled.  "Is there something wrong with us? That we don't just… I dunno, want to jump each other?  That we're going slow?"  She peeked at him between her fingers, her expression sheepish. 

            Cullen peeled one hand from her face and kissed her fingertips.  "I don't think so?" 

            "You don't sound convinced," she replied, arching an eyebrow even as her lips twitched up into a smile. 

            With a smirk of his own, Cullen leaned in and kissed her.  "Well… are you happy?  With… whatever we are right now?" 

            "I am."  She gave him a slow smile.  "Are you?" 

            "Yes, very much so."  They stared at each other for a moment before they both moved to kiss the other, bumping noses in their rush.  A heated minute later, they separated, and Cullen leaned his forehead against hers.  "I'd rather be slow together than rush and hurt you," he whispered.  Talia hugged him, one hand rising to card through his hair, and he pulled her close. 

            "Me too," she said softly.  "Me too."  She leaned back with a sigh.  "You're probably exhausted." 

            The feeling sank over him as she mentioned it, and he yawned.  "A little," he replied, blushing.  Talia stood and pulled him up with her.  They wandered down the hall together, pausing here and there to brush kisses over shoulders or capture the other's lips, but eventually they made it to what was going to be their shared room for the next few days.

Talia immediately threw herself on Blackwall’s bed, kicking her feet up into the air.  Slowly Cullen settled opposite her, a groan escaping his lips as he relaxed against his pillow. 

“I know I said it was too early for bed…” he began.  Talia smiled at him. 

“I won’t judge,” she said lightly.  “And neither will anyone else.  You need sleep.” 

He tugged at the blankets under him, trying to pull them down without moving.  “It doesn’t change that I feel pathetic.” 

Talia rolled off her bed and came closer.  “Don’t.”  She said it without room for argument, a simple declaration of her support.  She didn’t say anything else as she helped him get his blankets sorted, but when she leaned down to kiss him, Cullen caught her hands and pulled her into his lap. 

“I can’t remember the last time someone did anything like this for me,” he whispered into her hair. 

Her arms tightened around him.  “Really?”  Cullen shook his head, his chin bumping her temple.  “Cullen, I…”  She trailed off, emotion making her voice thick, before shaking her own head.  They sat in silence for a few moments before Talia extricated herself from his arms and reached for the enormous book that had been in his duffle bag. 

“This is going to come as a shock,” she announced, holding it up.  “But I think I might actually be interested in this book.” 

He studied her for a moment, wondering if he should ask what she had been about to say.  Some distant tightness in his chest, low in his gut, said he should, but the tease in her voice begged him to let it go. 

 _Plenty of time,_ he reminded himself before he smiled up at her.  “Are you sure you aren’t using it as a sleep aid?” 

She sat down with her back to the wall, throwing her long legs over his knees under the blankets.  “It can be both,” she replied, her voice a touch defensive as she picked through it for his bookmark. 

“Talia?” She paused and turned to look at him, pages falling over one hand.  He felt his smile go soft at he stared back.  “Stay with me tonight?”  He couldn’t remember the last time he wanted someone to share his bed.  Cuddling with anyone had always seemed frivolous – unnecessary touching that either created intimacy he didn’t feel, or kept him from the rest he needed to keep his demons at bay. 

But he wanted to sleep, really sleep, tangled up in dreams and each other, with Talia Trevelyan. 

She put the book down.  Shifting closer, Talia lay down beside him and propped herself up on her elbow.  “I’m… not going to say no,” she began, and her expression fell as he knew his did.  “But not tonight.  You need rest.” 

He tried not to sound petulant.  “I don’t need more rest.  I spent days resting in the hospital.”  Talia made a dubious face, and he grunted.  “Fine. Mostly resting.” 

Reaching out, she cupped his cheek in one hand.  Her thumb traced along his skin.  “Not tonight,” she repeated, though her voice was filled with regret. “Soon.  Just like everything else, I promise.”

Everything else.  There was so much potential in those two words, and Cullen heard all of it. 

“All right.”  He shifted onto his side and leaned against her, using his weight to topple her backward until he was practically on top of her.  Instead of protesting, she looped her arm around his neck.  “But I better be allowed to kiss you.” 

The corners of her eyes crinkled as she laughed.  “I’d be insulted if you didn’t.” 

When they were both breathing hard and hopelessly aroused, Cullen pulled back to find Talia smirking up at him.  “At least now it’s not too early to go to bed,” she teased.  He snorted.

It took some arranging before Talia managed to get herself sitting up and comfortable, Cullen’s enormous, boring book spread open in her lap.  He lay back, head resting comfortably on his pillow with one hand tucked beneath him, and listened as she started reading him to sleep. 

Her voice echoed in his ears as he fell asleep, and though he might have worried, thankfully that night his dreams were pleasant, filled with the warm, cared-for feeling of Talia curled up against him and a smile on his face. 


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may come back and edit this a little for content, but hopefully it lives up to all the sexy-time expectations out there :)

**Week Eight: Confessionals**

Cassandra: The Hard Ass

_Cassandra sits waiting in the booth, her arms crossed over her chest.  One leg is jiggling up and down as she talks, but she doesn't seem to notice.  She is carefully avoiding looking directly into the camera._

Yes, Varric did kiss me on our date night.  I don't know why you have to ask, I'm sure it was filmed.  _(Someone off-camera says the audience wants to know what she thinks about it, and Cassandra grunts.)_   It was a kiss.  It was awkward and sweet and I have no idea what it means between us.  Varric has been very helpful since, what with Cullen being sick and all, but we haven't… _(She sighs.)_   I don't know that I want anything to happen.  _(The same off-camera voice asks why not, and she shrugs.)_   I have had bad experiences in the past.  And it is difficult to figure out.  I love his work, but what if something changes? Or Maker forbid, he writes his stories from experience?  I don't know.  _(Suddenly she glares at the camera.)_   I don't have to decide this now, so why won't you go pester someone else? 

 

Blackwall: The Old Guy

_To everyone's surprise, Blackwall is smiling today.  It's a small smile, mostly hidden under the forest of facial hair that covers his face, but it's there.  Something about his eyes looks sad though, and the interviewer comments on this immediately._

Being here is harder than I expected, that's all.  I enjoy being away from my life, but this is… not what I expected.  _(He chuckles.)_   Too bad you can't send me home and just film me at my shop.  I would much prefer to be building something.  And I miss… my lady friend.   _(He clears his throat quickly to avoid drawing attention to this actual confession.  Off-camera, someone asks anyway.)_ I can't say more.  _(They ask something about Cullen instead. Blackwall levels a glare at them.)_ I meant what I said to him, did you catch it?  I'm glad he's back.  The house feels calmer when everyone is here.  _(His stance softens.)_   But I feel badly for Cassandra, having to juggle all this, and poor Sera… she's really starting to lose it.  We'll all be glad for this to be over, really.  

 

Sera: The Prankster

_Sera is pacing back and forth in the booth, muttering to herself when the camera starts filming.  Her hair is more unkempt than usual with pieces fluttering this way and that, and her hands are flying in agitated gestures as she moves._

Everyone is so freaking out about Tali and Cullen-Wullen! Stop it! They're too much above us now, not the same, not friends.  And it's making the house crazy!  Vivienne went right back to bein' a bitch as soon as they left, and Dorian and Iron Bull spend all their time arguing like mad.  _(She turns and moves very close to the camera, her eyes wide.)_   No one's having fun! Always fighting and shouting!  I just want to be away, far away.  Alone and safe.  Maybe with my widdle, like people.  _(Her hands ruffle through her hair and she heads out of the booth shouting.)_ No fun in the house! I need fun!

 

Iron Bull: The Meathead

_They still haven't fixed the booth size, so Iron Bull's horns are still just a little too large.  His shoulders are slumped with resignation though, and from the lack of smile on his face, it's probably not just the booth.  He is also wearing a shirt today, a sure sign that something is wrong._

I don't know what anyone else has told you, but the house is a mess.  It's a good thing Talia and Cullen are back; I was sure someone was going to snap.  They still might.  _(Someone asks why, and Bull levels a dark look at the camera.)_   Because it was worse than they told us.  Cassandra won't talk about it, but Dorian told me what happened.  He nearly died.  People can feel that tension, even if they don't know where it's coming from.  It should get better now that they're back.  _(Changing topics, the interviewer asks about his relationship with Dorian.  Iron Bull shifts in his seat, one horn smacking the walls, and looks at his lap.)_   He's not interested. There's too much baggage and drama.  He's a mess, and he won't admit it.  _(The same voice asks a muffled question, and his gaze shoots up.)_ I don't want to get involved.  It could be real if he'd let it, and if not…  _(He shrugs before straightening himself up.)_   We desperately need a game night or something, some action to work off that stress. 

 

Cullen: The Workaholic

_Like Cassandra, Cullen's arms are crossed as he sits in the booth.  His t-shirt hangs a little looser from his frame than before, a clear result of being sick.  His glare is almost enough to stop the camera right there, but the valiant soul responsible for these confessionals is not deterred._

I am back in the house.  I don't know what else you want me to say.  _(He's still glaring.  Off-camera, someone asks about how his withdrawal is progressing.  There is a long silence before Cullen stands up.)_ We're done here. 

_(He walks out.)_

\---

Talia collapsed into bed exhausted.  She hadn't slept well for a week now, not since the morning Cullen almost didn't wake up.  Her yoga had fallen off almost immediately, especially the days she'd spent at the hospital, and even though Cassandra had forced her to go home and rest, she hadn't gotten the deep sleep she needed.  Since Cullen's return to the house, she'd at least been able to sleep longer, but it didn't matter; her rest was plagued by nightmares, as though her offer to support Cullen had somehow transferred his troubled dreams to her.  Sometimes it was what might happen to Cullen if he relapsed, others she relived the night her brother died, and some nights it was fleeting images and screaming that left her terrified to her bones by the time she woke up.

She'd been staying in Blackwall's bed, which didn't lend itself well to easy sleep either.  The older man had insisted that she sleep there so she could be near Cullen, and while she was grateful, she couldn't shake the lingering guilt over uprooting him.  She was grateful when Cullen was finally well enough to sleep on his own, not only for his health but also for a return to her bed, a return she was hoping also meant some real sleep. 

She lay face down on the bed for a while, willing sleep to come.  Everything felt slow and heavy, and it should have worked.  Cassandra wasn't in their room yet, which meant she didn't have to worry about keeping her up as she tossed and turned.  And she didn’t have to listen to her roommate's deep, even breathing, sleep so sound that Talia could have thrown a pillow at her in a jealous rage and not woken her up. 

Rolling over to face the wall, she gathered her stuffed mabari into her arms and closed her eyes again, willing herself to fall asleep.  When it didn't work, she stuck one foot out from under the covers.  The room was hot, too hot, or maybe that was just her frustration rolling off her in near-palpable waves. 

Behind her, the door cracked open.  She didn't look up; Cassandra must have decided on an earlier night tonight, and Talia wasn't going to keep her up.  She lay still, hoping the Seeker wouldn't notice she was awake and feel bad about going to bed. 

"Talia?"  A voice whispered.  _Dammit_.  They'd been getting along well, especially as they tried to care for Cullen together, but she didn’t want some midnight heart to heart, not now.  Not when she was so outrageously tired and unable to get to sleep.  She didn’t respond and heard shuffling footsteps come closer.  "Talia?" 

"What?"  She snapped, flipping over, and she was surprised to find Cullen standing there in his pajama bottoms and a t-shirt, looking sheepish.  "Oh!" 

"Sorry to scare you," he whispered.  "I can go." 

"No, no," she said, sitting up. The blankets slipped from her shoulders, revealing the baggy concert T she was sleeping in and the stuffed mabari in her arms.  "What is it? Are you okay?" 

Cullen moved cautiously to sit on the end of her bed.  "I'm fine.  Cassandra said I could… well, she asked if I wanted to…"  He gave her a lopsided smile.  "I wondered if I could sleep here tonight." 

Talia was suddenly very aware that she was wearing panties and nothing else under her t-shirt.  "Um… sure?  I mean, if Cass said it was okay that you sleep in her bed, it's fine with me." 

Cullen blushed and looked away, rubbing the back of his neck, and Talia realized she'd misunderstood.  "Oh, I...  Okay, I'm glad, I just --" 

"You meant with me, didn't you?" 

He studied her, his expression guarded.  "I don't have to, especially if you aren't comfortable with that." 

She shook her head as she smiled.  "I just didn't get it," she told him, tossing her dog to the floor.  Reaching for his hand, she leaned closer.  "I'd… like that, actually.  It'd be almost, you know, normal." 

"That's what I'd hoped," he said, moving to brush a feather-light kiss to her lips.  "It's been a long time." 

"Not that long, silly," she replied, though she knew better.  Their date night over a week before had been the last truly normal night they'd spent together.  Even though they'd only first kissed the week before that, their accelerated schedule made everything feel so much longer.  She thought back to that first week in Skyhold, how she felt like she'd known him forever after only a few days, and her smile grew. 

"Stay with me, Cullen," she murmured.  "I missed you."  Hesitantly she got up, tugging her t-shirt down so she didn't scandalize him, and dug another pillow up from the closet.  Behind her, Cullen maneuvered so he was sitting in the middle of the bed. 

"Cass said… you can, um, lock the door," he said quietly as she turned back toward him.  Talia paused, the pillow dangling from her hand.  What did that mean?  The Seeker was very supportive of their being together, especially after how Talia had stayed by his side in the hospital, and they'd talked late one night about how …frustrating… things were, being in a new relationship and on camera all the time.  Maybe this was her small attempt at giving them privacy, should Talia want it. 

A shiver ran through her.  Maker, did she want that.  It was too soon for anything too strenuous, especially given that Cullen wasn't fully recovered, but she'd felt like she was on fire the night they went dancing, liable to go up in flames at the slightest touch.  Everything since had effectively squelched that desire, but she had no doubt Cullen could rekindle it easily. 

And she was more than willing to be the match. 

She tossed him the pillow and flipped the lock on the door without a word.  The urge to yank her shirt off spiked through her as she walked back to the bed, Cullen's dilated pupils following her every movement.  _Camera, still on camera,_ her brain reminded her, and she sighed.  This was not the night for that, at least. 

Cullen, however, rested his hands on her bare legs as soon as she stepped close enough.  His long fingers ran gently up the back of her legs, his thumbs tracing the muscles of her thighs, and he smirked up at her.  "You are amazing," he murmured.  With a small tug, he pulled her closer.  "Thank you for taking care of me." 

She smiled at him, trying not to waver at his touch.  His hands were warm, so warm.  "You said that already," she told him.  And indeed he had, multiple times once he'd started to recover.  It didn't mean she didn't like to hear it -- she'd listen to anything in that voice of his -- but she didn't want him to think he was in her debt.  She wanted to be with him, and as she'd told him, that meant even when he was ill. 

"But did I show you?"  There was a teasing note in his voice now, and his hands drifted up to graze her rear end before sliding back down toward her knees. 

"What did you have in mind?" 

He didn't answer, only ran his hands up her legs again, this time letting them linger on her ass.  She arched an eyebrow at him.  "Is this okay?"  he asked softly, and she nodded.  He kept going, running his hands under her shirt as far as he could reach.  Her eyes drifted closed at the sensation, his hands warm and gentle. 

As he dragged them back down, he caught his thumbs in the waistband of her panties, and her eyes shot open.  Cullen's gaze leapt to hers, the question in them obvious. 

Talia answered it with a kiss, leaning down so her hands could cup his jaw as she caught his lips.  His hands moved to grip her hips, and she climbed into his lap, her knees straddling his thighs.  Their kiss deepened, Cullen leaning back to give her body space but pressing his tongue into her mouth as he did, hard and insistent.  With a gasp, Talia opened to him. 

This was what she had wanted and missed, that closeness of body that mimicked how she felt, tied to him already when they'd only known each other for seven weeks.  His hands roamed all over her sides and back, fingertips digging in to press her closer.  She in turn hauled herself against him, her hand buried in his hair.  A pulse of warmth resonated from her core through her chest, and she rolled her hips, feeling his desire through his pajama pants.  He was hard already, as aroused as she, and they'd barely touched each other. 

With a grunt, Cullen disengaged himself from their kiss.  An almost pained expression twisted his features, and Talia jumped off, afraid she'd hurt him.  "No, no, don't leave," he said quickly, grabbing her wrist.  Carefully she reached to cup his jaw, and he looked up at her. 

"Are you okay?" 

"I…"  He hesitated.  Talia's face burned with embarrassment; in her haste, she must have done something to hurt him.  "I'm not… strong enough to hold you like that," he admitted as he flushed.  "I'm sorry, I should have thought of that before I… before we…" 

Talia sat down next to him and squeezed his hand.  "Hey, it's okay.  I was worried I'd hurt you." 

"No, I'm fine, I just…"  He sighed.  "I'm still weak.  And I don't want to do anything to make you uncomfortable, we talked before about taking this slow, and…" 

"You won't, Cullen."  She moved to hug him, wishing she could do something to make everything better, and he wrapped his arms around her to hold her close.  She could feel him shaking, just a little. 

"Tell you what," she said when she leaned in to rest her forehead against his.  "Let's just cuddle up together and see what happens, okay?" 

Those amber eyes searched hers.  "And if I… or I fall asleep, or something?" 

She smiled and brushed a kiss over his scar.  "I'll still like you tomorrow," she assured him, and finally a smile broke over his handsome features. 

"I don't deserve you," he murmured, kissing her soundly.  "But I'll try." 

They shifted the blankets and pillows around until there was enough space for both of them.  The beds at Skyhold were full-sized, just big enough for two people who liked each other to fit.  As soon as she lay down though, Talia remembered that she wasn't wearing any bottoms. 

"Um…" she said, not sure how to explain.  It hadn't been an issue a few minutes before when she'd been wrapped around him, but she felt self-conscious now.  "I'm not wearing pants." 

Cullen raised an eyebrow at her.  "I… knew that, I think," he said, his brow knitting.  "Is that… that is, are you…?" 

"That's how I usually sleep," she explained, and he shrugged. 

"I don't mind.  That is… I don't usually sleep with a shirt, actually.  Would that, um… bother you?" 

She winked at him.  "A chance to see my boyfriend without his shirt?  Please, ser, take it off." 

Quickly he sat up and stripped off his shirt before stretching out beside her.  The moonlight through her window didn't offer much to go by, and honestly, Talia could see little of his skin other than the shadows that outlined his muscles.  But she ran a hand up his abdomen anyway, feeling the warmth of his flesh and the thin sprinkling of hair that covered his chest.  Raised tissue stood out under her touch, some tiny and others long and ridged, and she felt Cullen watching her face as she ran her hand down his arm.  He seemed to be holding himself very still. 

She heard him draw in a ragged breath as her exploring hand reached his lower back, and she ran her fingertips over three wide, matching scars that wrapped around his side.

She didn't ask.  Instead she remembered what he'd told her while he'd been sick, about those days trapped in Kinloch and what he'd gone through to survive.  These had been the result, and she'd felt his hesitation in revealing them that day last week when she'd first slid her hands underneath his shirt. 

He hadn't flinched then, and he didn't flinch now, but nevertheless, she didn't want to disturb this moment. 

She skirted her hand up his back, away from his past, and felt him start to relax a little under her touch.  Slowly she leaned in, her lips tracing over a long, thin scar that traversed his pec. 

"Talia," he breathed as she kissed her way slowly up his neck.  Shifting to support her weight on one elbow, she leaned into him, pressing her breasts into his chest and using her tongue to trace hot, wet patterns along his ear.  His hand skimmed down her side, settling on her ass, and he grabbed her, yanking her pelvis flush with his.  Heat spiked through her as her clit brushed the ridge of his erection, and she couldn't help the moan that spilled out of her. 

Whatever had been holding him back broke then, and Cullen nearly growled as his lips found hers.  He pushed her back, gently cupping her head to keep her close, and she tugged him down with her, a deep, primal urge to feel his weight overtaking her senses.  Between them, he slid his hand inside her shirt to brush the underside of her breast with his fingertips, and she shivered. 

"Hang on," she said into his mouth, pressing him away, and he reeled backward in surprise. 

"Did I --"  He began but didn't finish, his eyes glued to her as she sat up, yanked her shirt off, and grabbed his head in a fierce kiss to pull him back down.  Though he hadn't had the chance to really look at her -- she'd moved fast in hopes the cameras wouldn't quite catch it -- she was glad she had put on cute panties to wear to bed.  They were black with pink lace, nothing special, but certainly better than the threadbare pair she'd considered for comfort.  Cullen wouldn't care, she knew that, but she was pleased nonetheless. 

His hand found its way between them again, brushing over her breast before tweaking her nipple, and she groaned, feeling wetness pool between her legs.  She could feel his arousal pulsing against her hip, trapped by his pajama bottoms.  Some part of the back of her mind wondered if he'd be comfortable taking those bottoms off, if he'd let her touch his bare skin and feel his body even if they were taking things a little slow.  But she didn't have time for such wonderings with his hard body pressed against her, and she wanted to touch every inch of him as long as he'd let her. 

She kissed him desperately, tongues twining together as they gasped and moaned into each other's mouths.  Her hands touched as much of him as she could reach: his back and shoulders, those soft blond curls, the lines of muscle in his biceps and sides.  She loved the power she could feel as he held himself up enough to keep from crushing her, but it wouldn't last; his forearms were wobbling as he bent to kiss her, and just before she could suggest it, he planted a hot, wet kiss to her mouth and leaned back on his heels, chest heaving. 

The dim light reflected off his eyes as he stared down at her.  "Someday I want to see all of you," he said roughly, one hand still resting on her abdomen.  Likely he could feel the ridge of her scars under his palm, but he didn't ask, and she offered up a quiet thanks to the Maker that he'd seen fit to ignore it.  He knew, like she did, that it was a question for another time. 

Slowly, arching her back for effect, Talia sat up a little and smiled at him, giving him her best seductive look.  "You know, if I'm in my underwear," she began, reaching one hand out to catch her fingertips in the waistband of his pajamas.  "It's only fair that you are too." 

That smirk crawled across his face.  "How could I resist such a compromise?"  He shifted to standing, untying the pajamas as he went.  They dropped off his narrow waist, revealing the long, toned V of his hips.  A thin trail of hair led into his black boxer-briefs, and she let her eyes travel down to take in the attractive bulge of his erection. 

Cullen stood patiently and let her look for a minute before he cleared his throat, and she felt her face warm when his smirk widened.  "Come back here," she said, leaning back on the bed.  As he maneuvered to kneel over her, she spread her legs so he was caught between them, the naked expanse of her body bare to him.  He didn't move to kiss her, only framed her waist with his hands and ran his thumbs in small circles against her skin. 

"You are beautiful," he said softly, and she blushed as she pushed herself up to kiss his chest, the highest part of him she could reach.  Her hands slid up his legs, fingers brushing the ridge of a scar along one thigh as she sought to touch him. 

He caught her hands before she reached anything more than soft cotton.  "I want to touch you," he said, bending to kiss her.  "Not the other way around, not yet."  Another kiss, deeper this time.  "Is that okay?" 

Heat flooded her veins.  "Yeah, sure."  She'd never been with a guy who didn't want his too, but she couldn't deny she liked it.  Something about him denying himself but still wanting to pleasure her set off fireworks deep in her belly. 

"Lay back for me," Cullen encouraged.  Once she had, he lowered himself to his hands and moved up her body slowly, leaving hot kisses and drawing long trails with his tongue until he reached her breasts.  He teased her nipples with little flicks of his tongue, making her moan out as he tickled her skin just enough to arouse her further.  She knew that if he felt her panties now, he'd find her soaked. 

Finally he leaned up and kissed the shell of her ear.  "Lay on your side?"  Curious, she shifted, pulling the sheet up over them as she did, and Cullen lay down behind her, far enough away that she couldn't feel him. 

"Hey, where'd you go?"  she asked quietly.  "You're on the other side of the bed, you're so far away." 

He hesitated, and she knew he was blushing.  Then he pressed a kiss to her shoulder.  "I don't want to make you uncomfortable with how much I want you," he rumbled in her ear, sending shivers down her spine.  She twisted back, one arm rising to grasp the back of his head as she pulled his lips to meet hers.  He came eagerly, his tongue hot and seeking in her mouth, and gradually she felt him ease closer on the bed until the warmth of his skin was pressed to her back. 

"You won't," she forced out between kisses, arching into his touch as his hand slid around her body to cup her breast.  He kept inching forward until she felt his pelvis pressed against her backside, the hardness in his briefs nestled against the cleft of her ass.  Before she could think, she rolled her hips back, catching him with her body, and he broke their kiss to put his forehead to her shoulder with a groan. 

"Maker, I want to touch you," he whispered when he had the breath, and Talia reached up to catch the hand lingering on her breast. 

"I want you to," she replied, no hesitation in her voice, and she guided his hand down her body to her panties.  "Please, Cullen."  His fingertips played with the lacy band for a moment before delving underneath, skimming along her skin until they met coarse hair.  Anticipation was eating her alive, she needed him to touch her, kiss her, something, so badly, and when his finger brushed her clit, she jumped with the sudden rush of pleasure that went through her. 

Cullen froze.  "Did I hurt you?" 

"Quite the opposite," she murmured, trying not to roll her hips into his hand. 

"Oh, good," he breathed in her ear, the warm hiss of his breath combined with his voice to have her nearly melting in his arms.  "How's… this?"  Carefully he slid his middle finger along her slit, sucking in a breath when he felt her arousal.  Against her back, his body tensed.  "Maker, you're wet." 

Talia could only nod.  She'd never felt so overwhelmed with just a simple touch, his fingers trailing slowly along her lips and through her folds before he rubbed his thumb over her clit.  A moan slid out of her as he rubbed a little faster, and he pressed a little harder, encouraged. The nerve endings in her skin were on fire as his chest pressed against her back, his arms holding her close. 

Then his hand on her body stopped.  "Can I…"  He began, one finger teasing at her entrance as he angled his hand to slip inside.  Talia couldn't even speak, only nod once more and try to stifle her cry as his finger breached her.   The entry was easy with how wound up she was in his arms, and he ground his hips against her ass as he pressed inside. 

"Maker, that… oh," she groaned, accidentally digging her nails in his thigh as he crooked his finger.  "Do that again."  With a press of his lips to the back of her neck, he obliged, and she had to clap a hand to her mouth to stay quiet. 

"Will you, um…"  He hesitated before she felt his elbow brush her knee, encouraging her to spread her legs. 

"Hang on," she muttered, and though it nearly pained her, she pulled his hand from her panties.  She heard his mumbled "Um…"  but ignored him in favor of wriggling out of her underwear and tossing them to the floor.  Before he could say anything, she flipped over to face him.  His hand fell back to her ass, pulling her close, and he groaned. 

The swollen length of his erection pressed against her mound as she slung a leg over his hips.  "Would you… that is, I want to…"  She wasn't sure how to ask, and instead she ran her hand over his abs before tucking her fingertips under the waistband of his briefs.  "I want to feel your skin," she breathed, watching his expression to see his reaction. 

One big hand cupped her chin and pulled her to him for a kiss, his tongue flicking out to brush her lips as he nodded.  She kissed him back eagerly, wetness blooming between her legs as he invaded her mouth, and gradually she worked his underwear down his thighs.  His cock sprang free, its weeping head trailing moisture along her leg. 

Talia couldn't help how she groaned. 

Quickly Cullen reached to help, pushing his briefs further down before kicking them off and never breaking their kiss as he pushed himself closer to her.  Both naked now, he pulled her leg tighter over his hip and she rolled herself against him, gasping at the slick feel of his cockhead brushing her folds.  He groaned and thrust against her again, and Talia had to snake a hand between them to give them space before they did something they'd regret. 

"Too fast," he hissed before she could speak, and she nodded against his lips. 

"I know," she said, wrapping her hand around him.  Leaning back, she watched his face contort with pleasure, his eyes pressed closed.  She pumped him once, twice, appreciating his weight in her hand before she let go and shifted a little away.  "But Maker, I want you." 

He groaned again and those golden eyes opened, pupils blown wide.  "Someday," he promised softly, kissing her. 

"Someday," she agreed, running her hand over his stubbly cheek.  Perhaps, when that day arrived, they'd be somewhere without a camera, somewhere they didn’t run the risk of their exertions ending up on (very edited) national television. 

"In the meantime…" he began, his fingers shifting to trail over her back.  "Can I still touch you tonight? If you're comfortable with that, I mean." 

Talia smiled.  "I was kinda hoping you would." 

He kissed her quickly before pulling away, his hand squeezing her waist as he pushed himself up to sitting.  "Hang on.  I have an idea."  Leaning over the bed, he retrieved something from the floor -- perhaps his underwear? -- and used it to cover himself as he climbed out of the bed. 

Talia pushed herself up on her elbows.  "Is everything okay?" 

"Just fixing something."  He smirked over his shoulder as he walked toward the far corner of the room, and she grinned back.  It might be dark in the room, but she could just make out the shadow of his rear end as he moved, and she couldn't deny how much she liked it. 

He stepped up on the end of Cassandra's bed and quickly tossed the shirt he'd been using as cover over the camera hiding up near the ceiling. 

Talia's eyes went wide.  She hadn't thought of that. 

Cullen glanced at her, one hand quickly protecting himself again as he realized his predicament.  "I… think that's better," he said, sounding unsure.  Talia just laughed. 

"Much."  Encouraged, he sauntered back across the room, hand still in place.  Talia had never regretted not turning on a light so much in her life. 

The second he climbed back into bed, pulling the blankets over his hips in a vain attempt to hide his arousal, Talia pounced on him.  He groaned when her heat pressed against him, his hands roaming over her back as he tried to touch all of her, and Talia moaned when one of his fingers dipped between her legs to brush her slit.  His light touch teased her for a moment before he moved away, kissing a fiery line across her cheek until his lips brushed her ear. 

"Flip over," he growled, voice hoarse.  A shiver ran through her, and she complied, Cullen pulling her back against his body, his erection nestled between the cheeks of her ass.  One hand slid along her thigh and under her knee, lifting her leg over his to spread her wide.   She might have felt exposed, so at his mercy with one hand running teasing touches along her inner thigh and the other buried in her hair, but the soft kisses he draped across her shoulders instead spiked her desire for him higher.  Any embarrassment for how she wanted him was lost to his touch. 

He rolled his hips gently against her as he trailed his fingers through her folds, finding her entrance and slipping one finger inside, then a second.  She sucked in a gasping breath, bucking a little against his touch.   The hand in her hair moved to brush it off her skin, and his lips moved up her neck, tiny flicks of his tongue against her skin making her writhe against him. 

"Is this okay?"  His voice was quiet, like he hoped he hadn't misread something, and Talia could only nod as she let her head fall back against his chest. 

"As long as you don't stop," she managed after a breath, and she shivered to feel his answering chuckle rumble in her ear.  There was something gentle, almost lazy, about his touch that was incredibly arousing, and she felt her wetness leak down onto her thighs around his fingers when the heel of his hand brushed her clit. 

Cullen was whispering in her ear now, though what exactly he was saying wasn't clear.  Something about how beautiful she was, how much he wanted her as she fought the urge to thrust herself down on his hand, instead trying to keep her ass pressed tight against him so he could feel the same pleasure he brought her.  The warm, soft feel of his bare skin, the thick heat of his cock, everything electric without being too much:  She realized with a sudden, rougher thrust of his fingers that really, she wanted him to fuck her. 

For half a moment, she considered asking him to forget everything she'd ever said about moving slowly and instead sink himself inside her. 

She could say it -- the stretch of his fingers and movement of his hands hadn't quite overpowered her ability to form words, or so she thought -- and he might do it, hard as steel where his cock had slid between her legs to run through her folds.  But Maker only knew what problems that could cause;  it was too soon, too unprotected, for that yet. 

And she wanted him too much, for too long, to ruin things with regret. 

A shift of his hand found that place inside that made her clench and moan, and he crooked his fingers carefully, listening to her sounds and adjusting as she responded.  The heel of his hand ground down on her clit, pulling her tighter against him, and she couldn't remember the last time she felt this good, this intense as she climbed toward her peak. 

With a jolt, Talia realized that Cullen was groaning softly into her shoulder, the stiff heat of his cock rubbing against her with each move of his hips.  She reached back slowly, his whispered words that he wanted this to be about her echoing in her ears, but he eased his hips away to make room for her hand and she grasped him gently, the heat of him searing against her palm.  He fought back a moan as she squeezed him, thrusting into her hand in the same rhythm of his fingers moving inside her.   

"Maker," he whispered, forehead against her shoulder.  "You feel so good.  I want you so much --"  A groan cut him off as she pumped him faster, and suddenly he leveraged himself up so he could trace the shell of her ear with his tongue.  "I want to feel you come around my fingers," he whispered, his breath hot.  Talia moaned softly, remembering that the walls were like tissue paper and not really wanting to have Sera for an audience. 

It did not stop her from thrusting herself down onto his hand, his fingers sliding deeper, faster, and he was thrusting faster into her hand, his own sounds muffled by his face pressed into her neck.  "Cullen, I --"  She couldn't get the words out fast enough before she toppled over the edge, her every nerve alight and his lips crushing hers as he swallowed the sounds trying to pour from her mouth.  He kept moving inside her, fingers coaxing wave after wave of pleasure from her body. 

When she finally came down, tiny spasms wracking her skin, she found that Cullen had deflated in her hand.  "Did you…" She managed, and he nodded against her skin. 

"Yes," he managed, breathing hard.  Carefully he withdrew his hand, sending shivers of lingering pleasure through her, and she heard an obscenely wet noise as he put his fingers in his mouth.  His softening cock twitched against the back of her leg. 

"Was it…"  She didn't know how to continue or what to ask, but that didn't matter;  he slung his arm around her waist and pulled her tight against him, nuzzling his nose into her hair. 

"Yes," he said again, breath tickling her skin.  "For you?" 

Talia heaved an enormous contented sigh and laced her fingers through his.  "Absolutely."  

They lay together a while as their breathing returned to normal.  Talia was gradually aware that she could feel wetness squelched between them, warm but cooling rapidly, and she almost laughed.  That explained it.  Wiggling against him, she felt him tense up. 

"Oh, Maker, I'm sorry," he mumbled suddenly, and her back was cool without his warmth pressed against her.  "I didn't realize… Here, let me…"  He sat up, fumbling with sheets and reaching for the floor to find something to wipe them both off. 

Talia grabbed his arm and pulled him back down beside her.  "It's fine, Cullen." 

She felt him hesitate.  "Doesn't it… bother you?" 

To her surprise, it really didn't.  At some point, she knew, she'd get up and wash the evidence from her skin, but for now, she couldn't have cared less.  They were together, and happy -- she didn't need anything else. 

"Not really," she replied quietly, tugging him closer so she didn't feel so awkward lying there with his spend on her skin.  The mental image was so absurd, she actually laughed.  "If you aren't messy when you're done, you aren't doing it right." 

He chuckled.  "I suppose. Still."  She felt him wipe something against her back, the shift in the bed as he cleaned himself up too, and then she heard a muffled thump of whatever it was hitting the floor.  His warm body pressed against her then, his arm around her and his nose in her hair.  "I don't feel like I messed you up now," he mumbled, his voice thickening toward sleep. 

A warm feeling bubbled up inside her at his words.  Few people in her life had ever cared if they messed her up in any way, let alone by sharing a moment that felt so significant. 

"You didn't," she replied, rolling over in his arms.  Those warm brown eyes were open and watching when she settled herself again.  "You can't." 

A small smile settled on his lips.  "I never want to," he replied, leaning up to press a kiss to her forehead.  She kissed the tip of his nose in response. 

They talked quietly for a while, little nothings just to keep them awake and wrapped around each other until Talia's eyelids started getting heavy. 

"Talia?" 

She forced them open again and found Cullen barely awake, blinking at her slowly.  "Yeah?" 

"Wake up with me?" 

"Of course."  She leaned her forehead against his, and he sighed softly. 

She waited what felt like a long time, until his breathing deepened as he drifted toward sleep.  She didn't know if she could say it to him yet, if it would scare him off or make him uncomfortable, but she'd been so close to it when he first came home from the hospital.  It had been too much, still too fast then, and likely it was now, but she didn't want that to stop her. 

"Cullen?" 

"Hm?"  His eyes didn't open, his response more a grunt than a true answer. 

"I…"  She hesitated, and when he didn't prompt her again, she wasn't sure he hadn't fallen asleep.  Really, that was okay --  it was only in the darkness that she felt safe, no matter the warm feeling of him holding her close. 

She was almost asleep herself by the time she remembered to finish her thought. 

"I… think I'm falling in love with you," she whispered.  She didn't know if he heard her, but sleep claimed her before she could second-guess it. 

And Cullen, mostly asleep as he was, smiled. 


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. I wasn't expecting to walk away from this for the better part of a year, but it is what it is. I'm back and going strong now, so no worries! 
> 
> For your suffering, have several thousand words of tooth-rotting fluff! :D

Cullen woke abruptly, as he so often did.  He was surprisingly cold, but he hadn’t been beset by nightmares as far as he remembered; where had the sheet gone?  Rolling onto his back, he rubbed one hand over his eyes and looked around. 

The answer to his question came in the form of the woman snuggled up beside him, every blanket in the bed piled atop her so only her dark hair showed. 

Cullen couldn’t help his smile. 

He considered reaching for the tail end of the sheet draped across her.  It would probably wake her, but that might be worth it if she rolled over to lay with him.  They could warm up together under all those blankets, her lips pressed against his chest and his hands running along her sides.  Maker, how he wanted to kiss her again.  He hadn’t done nearly enough of that last night, even if he had finally been allowed to touch her body, feel her fingers trace his scars as they traveled down to his –

He was abruptly aware that he was still naked from the night before. 

He blushed and pushed the thought away, instead reaching overhead to stretch.  Going back to sleep rarely worked, and if he forced it, he'd end up with a headache.  Instead he took a deep breath and relaxed, tucking one hand behind his head so he could watch her sleep.  He'd asked her to wake up with him, a request he now realized was absurd.  His schedule had him up so much earlier than her to run; she rarely made an appearance before nine. 

And really, he didn't want to wake her.  More than anything, he wanted to just lay there and listen to her breathe steadily in his arms, the warmth of her body leeching into his skin.  She was at peace; he wouldn't be the one to ruin that. 

Her words from last night drifted across his mind, and he wondered if he'd heard her correctly.  It had sounded, to his exhausted mind, as though she'd said she was falling in love with him. 

But that couldn’t be right.  He'd never done anything in his life worthy of being loved like that, loved beyond family and duty and into attraction and affection and choice.  He still couldn't believe she even wanted to touch him, let alone anything else. 

It didn't change that she'd said it though. 

Cullen tried not to dwell on it.  She'd said it so softly… she might have not intended him to hear it, and she might take it back if he ever brought it into the light of day. 

He had trouble believing that to be true of her, but the Maker only knew.  For now, until she said it again, he'd keep it safe, locked up next to feelings he wasn't yet ready to acknowledge. 

Talia shifted next to him, the blanket slipping from her face, and Cullen came back to reality.  He had no idea what time it was -- Cass was probably waiting for him to meet her for their morning run.  They'd only been out once since he'd come back to Skyhold, and he wouldn't give her a reason to believe him less than fit. 

Maneuvering so he didn't wake Talia, Cullen wiggled out of bed and searched for his clothes.  He couldn't find his briefs, which seemed appropriate all things considered, and instead tugged on his pajama pants.  A short, commando walk to his room didn’t matter.  It wasn't until he picked up his shirt -- stained with come from the night before, inspiring rushes of blood to all sorts of places -- that he remembered he'd covered the camera. 

That's where his briefs were. 

He chuckled to himself.  In the heat of the night before, he'd thought he grabbed his shirt as a shield and his briefs to clean up.  Apparently not. 

He'd survive without a shirt too, but nonetheless he tugged it on, still hesitant about exposing his scars to the camera.  Perhaps someday he'd be comfortable enough to let them show.  He did, however, leave the camera covered.  The continued privacy could only be good for he and Talia, even if Cass would definitely give him her signature disgusted look about his underwear hanging above her bed. 

Pressing a kiss to her hair, he let Talia sleep and left quietly, closing the door behind him. 

\---

Talia was intensely surprised to find herself alone when she woke up the next morning.  She shifted where she lay, eyes barely open but hands feeling for the space heater of a man she’d slept beside.  She couldn’t find him. 

With a groan, she forced herself up, eyes still squinted shut despite the late morning sunlight coming through the window.  She rubbed her eyes and yawned before searching again. 

The outline of his body was obvious, but cold. 

Talia stared at the indentation on the pillow without comprehending it.  For one thing, it was against the wall of her room; how had he gotten out without waking her up?  And for another, what the hell, Cullen? 

That was as far as she got before someone knocked on the door. 

“What?” She croaked, her throat a hoarse after last night.  Maker, when was the last time she’d felt that? 

The door opened, bringing light and the smell of coffee and the hesitant smile of the very man she’d been missing.  “Good morning,” he said, stepping inside and closing the door behind him.  “I, uh, brought coffee.” 

Talia nodded, still not quite feeling like she had a handle on the situation.  “Morning,” she managed, and she saw Cullen’s smile widen.  He set the mug down on her nightstand – cream already stirred in, when had he learned that? – and plopped down on the bed, arms already reaching to gather her close.  She let herself go, nestling into the warmth and safety of his chest.  A soft sigh escaped her before she could stop it. 

Cullen kissed her hair in response, and Talia couldn’t help how she suddenly clung to him.  The relief that had washed over her at the sight of him standing there smiling finally ebbed, leaving her warm and peaceful. 

“I’m glad you uh,” she said, stopping to clear her throat before she tried again.  “I’m glad you came back.”   She felt his shoulders tense a little, and when he spoke, his voice was hesitant. 

“Was I… that is, should I have… I don’t know what I’m asking.” 

Talia pressed a kiss to his shoulder.  “I woke up and you were gone,” she said.  “I didn’t know what had happened.  And I wasn’t exactly awake enough to figure it out.” 

He smiled at that.  “That’s why I brought the coffee.  Cream, one sugar?”  Talia nodded and reached for it.  She sipped as Cullen waited.  “I went for a run with Cassandra,” he eventually supplied, and understanding dawned.  She should have remembered the man was a workaholic. 

"I would have gone with you," she offered.

"No, you wouldn't," he answered, smiling.

"I might!" 

"Someday, then."  That smirk still lingered.

She gave him a dirty look.  "The only reason you're forgiven is because you brought coffee." 

"Good to know.  Did I get it right?" 

"Perfect."  She yawned and put the mug on her nightstand, the blanket slipping off her chest.  For a moment, she hesitated.  Last night in the dark of the room, she'd felt safe, but she wasn't sure if she was ready for that yet today.  She glanced at Cullen, who blushed. 

"Um… is the camera still covered?" 

He nodded.  "Yes.  I thought… perhaps it would give us some privacy.  If you want it, that is."  His gaze flickered to her chest and back. 

Her reluctance vanished.  "I had fun with you last night," she told him softly, and he smiled. 

"As did I."  He reached for her hand and laced their fingers.  "Perhaps… we can sleep together again?"  She giggled.  "Maker's breath, I didn't mean like that."  

"I know, Cullen, I'm just teasing."

He leaned in to kiss her.  Talia stopped him with a hand on his chest, and he pulled back abruptly, face red.  "I'm sorry, I --" 

"No, it's just…"  She laughed self-consciously.  "I need to brush my teeth." 

Cullen shook his head.  "Maker, I don't care."  He kissed her sweetly, one hand cupped around her jaw, before pulling away.  "I should let you get dressed." 

Talia disentangled herself slowly.  "Probably.  But you don't have to, uh, leave."  She didn't have the words for whatever she was feeling, but somehow, baring herself to him seemed like a way to be honest, open.  To show him that she trusted him, even when she didn't trust herself. 

Next to her, Cullen went very still.  "Are you sure?" 

She didn't answer.  Taking a deep breath, she got up and walked to her closet, leaving her blankets in a pile.  She willed her legs not to tremble as she searched for something to wear.  It had been a long time since she'd let someone see her naked; in the dark when they were having sex was one thing, but the light of day was a much harsher lens. 

She hesitated before she turned back.  Physically, she knew she looked fit -- years of yoga would do that -- but she'd always been self-conscious about the scar across her stomach, and she didn't know if the meaning of her gesture would sink in.  Or if Cullen, gentleman that he was, would even look. 

Grabbing a pair of panties from a drawer, she twisted them in her hands, trying to summon her courage.  She turned around slowly, fighting the urge to cover herself, only to find Cullen standing in front of her. 

"You are…" he trailed off, fingertips brushing her face as he stared at her.  "I don't know what I ever did to deserve you, but Maker's breath, I am so lucky." 

"Cullen," she whispered, voice catching in her throat.  He didn't reply, only shook his head and moved to kiss her.  Talia met him halfway, pushing herself onto her toes so she could tangle her fingers in his hair.  He slid warm, calloused hands around her waist to hold her tight, a rough counterpoint to the tender insistence of his lips, and she knew she'd made the right call.  He understood.  She had no idea how she'd found this man, who understood her and cared for her like no other, on a damn reality show, but in that moment, she never wanted to let him go. 

The warm smell of his skin nearly overwhelmed her as she slid her hands down under the hem of his shirt, fingertips grazing the scars across his back.  For a split second, he stiffened.  Then, before she could stop kissing him long enough to ask, he leaned back and pulled his shirt over his head.  It landed in a pile, and he pulled her close against his bare chest. 

"I want to feel your skin," he whispered, the same words she'd begged of him the night before, and Talia nodded, hands already running over as much of him as she could reach. 

"I want you," she answered, not knowing if it was lust or a future or just him she wanted, however he'd have her.  It didn't matter.  They were here, now, and together, and that was everything she needed. 

Cullen groaned when she grabbed his ass, one hand already moving to tease her nipples as he fought to get closer.  She could feel him throbbing hard and eager against her thigh, her own arousal sending tingles up her nerves with each passing moment. The sheer force behind his mouth made Talia's head spin as he kissed her, rough stubble grazing her skin, and when she stepped into him, sending him backward toward the bed, he pulled her with him.  They were both so intent on falling in together and seeing where this took them, so natural this time that the thought of waiting never entered her mind. 

And then someone knocked on the door. 

His mouth hesitated on hers, and she broke their kiss.  "Is that door locked?"  With a shake of his head, he let her go and stepped around her, one arm extended to keep her behind him and thus out of sight in case the door opened.  Quickly she crossed her arms over her chest, her absent pants forgotten. 

"What," he demanded, and Talia almost laughed.   His voice trembled just a little, that rough edge indicative of his irritation.  And his arousal, if memory served her from the night before.  Whoever had interrupted had better have a damn good reason. 

"Cullen, open this door," Cassandra growled from the other side. 

"Not a chance," he snapped, darting forward to catch the knob as her roommate tried to open it.  He shot a glance over his shoulder at her, brow furrowed but pupils still blown, and mouthed, "sorry." 

Talia just shook her head.  It was inevitable that someone interrupt, even if she didn't like it.  They were just lucky it was Cassandra and not Dorian.  Or Sera. 

"We cannot do anything until you two join us," the Seeker replied, her voice rising.  "You were supposed to go get Talia, what is taking so long!" 

Talia did giggle at that.  Before her, Cullen leaned his forehead against the door, his shoulders sagging.  "Just go without us," he grumbled. 

"Cullen!"  The door lurched in as Cassandra threw her weight against it, and Cullen hit his head. 

"Fuck!" 

"Let me in!" 

"No!" 

"Stop it," Talia said, stepping forward.  As amusing as it was to watch two grown adults bicker like children, she didn't want one of them to end up hurt.  Probably Cullen. 

She brushed him aside and opened the door a crack, keeping her naked body carefully out of sight.  "What can we do for you, Cassandra?" 

The Seeker slowly lowered her fist, raised to bang on the door.  "Hello," she said awkwardly, eyes moving as she took in Talia's bare shoulder.  "I um.  I interrupted something, I see." 

Talia wiggled her eyebrows at her.  Behind her, she heard Cullen chuckle. 

"The house, um," she studied her feet as she attempted to explain.  "The producers have a surprise for us in the dining room, but we aren't allowed to touch it until everyone is present.  Cullen was supposed to fetch you."

At this, the man in question ran a hand down her side to grab her ass, and Talia jumped. 

Cassandra's mouth settled into a hard line.  "For Maker's sake, Cullen, keep your hands to yourself!" 

Talia abruptly found herself lifted away from the doorway, one strong arm wrapped around her as Cullen leaned out to make a face at Cassandra.  "What if I don't want to?"  

"Cullen!"  Talia squealed, pushing at his arm in an attempt to free herself.  He threw her a grin before closing the door in the Seeker's face. 

"I know where you live, Rutherford!"  Cassandra shouted as he clicked the lock into place.  Falling back against the door, Cullen pulled Talia in tight against his chest.

She sagged against him, enjoying the warmth rolling off his body and the smoothness of his skin on hers.  "What was that all about?"  She leaned her head on his shoulder, eyes closed. 

Cullen kissed her neck.  "There is a house event of some kind.  I was supposed to get you, and I got… distracted." 

Twisting in his arms, Talia reached to loop her arms around his neck.  "Distracted, hm?"  She kissed him long and slow.  "Think it'll happen again?" 

Something thumped on the door before he could reply. 

They exchanged looks.  "I guess not," she laughed, and reluctantly Cullen let her go, trailing fingertips along her sides as she walked away.  The room felt surprisingly cold without his body pressed against hers, and Talia shivered.  Suddenly being naked didn't seem like so smart a choice.

But the slow drag of Cullen's eyes on her as she headed for the closet made her reconsider.  He grabbed his shirt and slid it on, settling on her bed with one arm propped behind his head as she got dressed.  Every time she glanced at him, she found him watching -- but he was staring at her face, her eyes, not her ass, and when she'd finally shimmied into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, it was only Cassandra's banging on the door again that kept her from dropping all pretense and pouncing on him. 

 If the tightness of his grip and the pressure of his mouth were any indication, he felt the same.  Eventually they had to make an appearance -- she knew that.  But for a few hours, this room had been their haven, private for the first time in their relationship and wonderful.  She didn't want to leave. 

"Sleep with me again?"  She asked softly when they broke apart. 

His brows knit together as he studied her. 

"Oh Maker's balls, not like that," she laughed, appreciating the flush on his cheeks as the corner of his mouth pulled into a smile.  "I mean like, here.  In bed, together."  He kept giving her that look, and she resisted the urge to kiss it off his face. "You know, actually sleeping?" 

"I would like that," he said finally, leaning his forehead against hers and closing his eyes.  He ran a warm hand up and down her back.  "But I… I don't always sleep well.  Last night was… an exception." 

For some reason she didn't want to examine too closely, Talia loved that he'd be willing to let her see him have a nightmare if it meant he was with her.  "Well, I can't promise I won't steal all the blankets again either," she teased. 

He bumped his nose against hers and kissed her quickly.  "I'll have to find another way to stay warm." 

"Cullen, come on!" Someone roared through the door, someone who sounded like Cassandra might if she were possessed by a rage demon. 

They flew apart like someone had sprayed them with a hose.   Cullen marched to the door and yanked it open.  "We're coming!"  He shouted, barely an inch from the Seeker's furious face.  Talia had a sudden flash of what meeting Mia might be like.  "Hold your nugs, Cass!"

Cassandra punched him in the arm.  "If you aren't in the kitchen in five minutes, Rutherford," she growled.  "I'm calling your sister."  She turned and stormed off, leaving Cullen staring after her and Talia smothering her laughter into her fist. 

He glanced back at her.  "Maker's breath, I am going to pay for that on our run tomorrow." 

She tried to stop laughing.  "We could have gone right away, you know." 

"I know," he said with a smile.  "I just… I can't help it.  You make me happy."  He gave the hallway toward the kitchen a skeptical look.  "And distracted," he added, rubbing a hand along the back of his neck. 

Talia ducked around him, grabbing his hand to pull him after her.  "I'm flattered, I think." 

He tugged her arm, sending her spinning back into his chest, and wrapped her up in his arms.  "Don’t worry, it won't be the last time I make a fool of myself in front of you." 

She raised an eyebrow at him.  "You know, I think we still have three of Cassandra's five minutes left…" 

He gave her a predatory smile, already moving to kiss her when Iron Bull came around the corner. 

"Hey, you two!  If the Seeker's head explodes, I am NOT cleaning it up!" 

Talia dropped her forehead into Cullen's chest in defeat.  "Coming, Bull." 


	20. Chapter 20

Tucked away at the far end of Skyhold's labyrinth of hallways, the dining room was not an area the members of the house frequented.  In fact, as Talia followed Cullen and Iron Bull past the gym and several other closed doors, she wasn't sure she'd even known the house had a dining room. 

So she was surprised when Bull pushed the door open to reveal an enormous room filled with light and flowers and dozens of envelopes piled on the shining surface of a gorgeous table.  High windows topped with stained glass Chantry suns looked  out over the estate's sprawling grounds beyond.  Busts of Orlesian Emperors hid in every corner, while heavy tapestries illustrated Andraste's original Exalted March and her inevitable downfall.  Along the far wall of the room, an antique coffee and tea set surrounded by cookies and petite fours waited. 

Talia hesitated in the doorway, her mouth hanging open. 

"It's lovely, isn't it," Vivienne said quietly, and she jumped.  Their housemates all stood waiting along the table, a tiny nameplate before each one.  "It's decorated in the old Orlesian style from the first Dragon Age." 

"It's amazing," she answered.  

"We've admired it for far too long," Cassandra muttered, arms crossed where she stood near Blackwall, who smiled under his beard.

"Like, forever," Sera added, bouncing on the balls of her feet.  Talia grinned shamelessly at the petite baker, and when Cullen squeezed her hand, she had to resist not pulling him down into a kiss in front of everyone. 

"So what is all this?" She asked as she found her nameplate.  A stack of envelopes and a bundle of crystal grace, her favorite flowers, greeted her. 

"It's fan mail," Dorian said from beside her.  His pile was considerably larger than hers, with a scent like someone had tried on every cologne in the store wafting off it.  "Let Varric explain." 

She had honestly missed the dwarf, who had to stand on a chair to be seen over a mountain of letters and packages. 

Thankfully, he looked as amused as her.  "Now that we're all here," he began.  Cassandra snorted.  "We can get started." 

Before the show's first episode aired, the producers had started planning a surprise for the housemates: a batch of letters from home.  They'd reached out to everyone they could find -- parents, siblings, significant others, friends, co-workers, and so on -- and asked them to send something to the housemates.  Everything was to be delivered during week eight, right around when they guessed everyone would be missing their friends and families back home. 

Then, Varric continued, since the show's debut four weeks ago, the studio had been swamped with mail, gifts, flowers, even chocolates that fans had sent for the housemates.  So they'd sent those along too. 

It all amounted to the table before them: a ocean of letters, packages, and everything else that the world outside Skyhold had sent. 

"Wow," Talia breathed, studying her pile.  To think that not only had someone bullied Will into writing her, but also she had fans somewhere out there in Thedas… the feeling of scrutiny was back, crawling over her skin like it was the first day of the show all over again. 

Just like that day, Dorian's enthusiasm saved her from her misery.  "Well, let's dig in!"  He grabbed a fat scarlet envelope with a dragon stamped on it and tore it open.  Confetti shaped like tiny dicks poured out into his lap. 

"Well, well," Iron Bull intoned.  "Some Vint has a crush on you, Dorian." 

Dorian flicked some confetti at him.  "Don't be jealous, Bull." 

"Maker's breath, they aren't all going to be like that, are they?"  Talia could hear the apprehension in Cullen's voice and tried not to laugh. 

Dorian cocked an eyebrow at him.  "Only if you're lucky." 

"Andraste's sword, someone else open one," Blackwall muttered before Cullen could say anything else. 

"I will!" Sera ripped into an enormous card, easily a foot tall, and a photo of a grinning, red-headed dwarf tumbled out.  She was, Talia noted quickly before looking away, topless.  Sera, however, picked it up and proudly showed everyone, already babbling away about how much she loved and missed her Widdle. 

Next to her, Cullen groaned and sank down in his seat, fingers pressed to the bridge of his nose. 

Thankfully, Varric intervened.  "If we open these individually, we'll be here all day.  Maybe all week.  How about we just go for it?" 

Excited, they dug in.  Vivienne reached for the card attached to an enormous bouquet of dawn lotus, while Blackwall sifted through a seemingly endless pile of small golden envelopes.  His face reddened more with each he opened.  Talia would have been paying more attention but for Cullen's hand on her elbow, pulling her closer to read the names on a blue and pink envelope. 

"It's from Mia," he explained when she saw both their names.  It turned out to be an invitation to a baby shower during the last week of the show; his sister Rosalie had written a note on that back that explained they couldn't put it off until after, but Mia wanted to include them.  Both sisters had signed it with an obscene number of X's and O's. 

"I'm so sad we're going to miss it," Talia lamented, admiring the dancing bears and butterflies.  Beside her, Cullen huffed out a sigh.  "You're not?" 

"No, I am," he said, running a hand over his forehead.  "It's just…"  He glanced around.  Varric was shuffling through a massive stack of paper, muttering "What the shit, Anders," as he went, while Dorian and Iron Bull were loudly comparing whose fan mail was more explicit.  Satisfied they weren't going to be overheard, Cullen scooted closer to Talia. 

"I haven't seen my family in so long.  I'm not sure I want the first time to be… this." 

Talia nudged him.  "You know they'd love to see you, it doesn't matter if it's at a baby shower or not." 

 "I don't though," he insisted, and Talia dropped the card to reach for him, settling one hand against his cheek. 

"Yes you do."  It broke her heart to see him so doubt himself.  She'd never expect her own crazy family to welcome her back, but by all accounts, Cullen's family was warm and kind and wanted nothing more than to see their brother again.   She just had no idea how to convince him of that. 

He smiled a little in response before shaking his head and reaching for the pile.  Talia did the same, shoving some brightly colored envelopes aside to open the one covered in her brother's chicken-scratch handwriting.  It was made out to "Talia, wherever the fuck she is, Orlais," which made her laugh.  She had no idea how it had found Skyhold, but she suspected it had something to do with that producer in the purple dress, Leliana. 

The envelope was surprisingly fat, nearly bulging.  She wondered what Will had sent as she wiggled a finger under the flap, ripping it and sending what felt like hundreds of condoms flying onto the table. 

Beside her, Cullen froze.  Cassandra looked up in surprise when one landed on top of her pile.  Dorian and Iron Bull's bickering stalled, and Varric even abandoned whatever manifesto he'd been reading to investigate. 

Talia herself couldn't stop laughing. 

"Goodness, aren't you popular," Dorian announced, plucking what remained of the package from her hands.  He fished around and produced a slip of paper.  "To my dear baby sister," he read.  "A little something to get you started.  Those cameras can make you a lot of money, if you know what I mean." 

Talia choked down a snort while Cullen went scarlet.  Down the table, Bull and Sera roared with laughter. 

"Talia, darling," Dorian began, raising an eyebrow at her.  "Is your brother suggesting what I think he's suggesting?" 

Talia picked up the closest condom and tossed it at the mage.  He flinched.  "That's Will," she said by way of explanation.  "I'm related to a grade-A pervert." 

"I'm offended you didn't introduce me," he answered, tucking the condom into his pocket. 

"Just you wait." 

"Maker's breath," Cullen muttered, and from across the table, Sera and Cassandra both pelted him with condoms. 

Iron Bull leaned over.  "You better open another, or they aren't going to stop," he told Cullen, who groaned and reached for his pile again.  His next turned out to be from his buddy Delrin back home, and soon everyone had settled back into their own fan mail explorations. 

Varric narrated them through a stream of notes from his Kirkwall crew, including Fenris' loving "hello dwarf" and nothing else, and Hawke's creative musings on how she might tell the tale of the threesome she was invited to with Isabela and an elven assassin, complete with detailed euphemisms about said assassin's talents.  When he finished, Iron Bull passed around almost a dozen letters from the Chargers, each of whom relayed a different version of Bull's second, a Tevinter warrior named Krem, getting hit on by a Templar named Lysette.  By the time they got to the letter from Krem himself, which just said "Don't believe anyone, I swear boss," in all caps, Talia was thoroughly convinced she needed to meet every last one of them. 

"They sound… spirited," Cullen observed cautiously, reaching for another envelope.  He'd received a surprising amount of frilly letters that bled glitter onto the table, mostly from young women.  A few had contained photos, which Iron Bull had promptly confiscated. 

"What! They sound awesome!" Talia argued.  "We should go drinking with them when we're out of here." 

"Yes!" Dorian agreed, to high-fives all around.  Cullen was strangely silent.  "Cullen? Thoughts?"

Talia looked to find that Cullen had yet again frozen in place, one hand clenched on the edge of the table while his face turned purple.  "Cullen?  Are you all right?" 

"Yes," he said swiftly.  His voice sounded like he'd sat on something crucial. 

"Are you sure?  Did something happen?" 

Before he could respond, Dorian had popped up from the table and snatched the card from his hands.  "Let's find out what could have so confounded our dear ex-Templar," he said, waving the card around as he dodged out of Cullen's reach. 

"Give it back!" 

"Never!"

"Cullen, what in Thedas is it?" 

"'I lie awake at night touching myself to thoughts of you…'" Dorian began before he turned to give Cullen an impressed look.  "Oo, saucy."  The entire table followed suit to stare at Cullen, who had stopped chasing Dorian with a look of wide-eyed horror on his face. 

Dorian continued, fanning himself.  "'I imagine you as a medieval commander, fucking me on a desk until I scream your name…'"

"Wow," said Iron Bull.  "I thought my fan mail was dirty." 

"Maker take me," Cullen groaned, one hand over his eyes.  Talia bit her lip as she tried not to laugh. 

To everyone's surprise, Cassandra saved him.  "Mine is worse," she announced.  They turned to stare at her before Dorian stretched out a hand.  With a disgusted sigh, the Seeker handed over a fuchsia card, and the mage promptly started reading.  She was right -- it _was_ worse.

Talia didn't listen, instead leaning back in her chair to reach Cullen, who had pressed himself against the wall and refused to sit back down.  "Are you all right?" 

"Fine," he said, his voice tight.  She squeezed his forearm gently.  That kind of teasing always made him uncomfortable; he'd told her once it had something to do with his time in Kinloch, and she hadn't pushed.  He'd tell her in his own time. 

When he didn't say more, Talia released his arm and reached for his cards.  A pale yellow envelope with "Rutherford" in the return address space seemed safe enough.  She opened it gently and passed it over.  He accepted without looking. 

A few minutes later, he sat down.  "It's from Rosalie," he said softly.  Talia glanced up to find a small smile across his face. 

"Your younger sister?" 

"Yes."  His eyes trailed over the lines again before he gave her a real smile.  "I never expected she'd write.  It's… nothing special." He passed her the card.  "Just events in her life.  I haven't seen her in years." 

Talia skimmed the lines.  Rosalie wrote like the card was a blog, all emotions and run-on sentences, but there was no mistaking her enthusiasm to share with her older brother.  The last line begged Cullen to come to South Reach and visit.  "This is really sweet," she told him when she looked up and found him watching her.   

"I know."  He hesitated before reaching for her, but she kissed him back happily, even in this room full of people.  "I… I think you might be right about them," he said when they parted. 

"I'm really glad."  She leaned against his chest, his arms wrapped tight around her waist.   "I think I got one from Mia, want to look?"  He nodded into her hair. 

She fished around her pile until she found a large, plain envelope, Mia's neat handwriting spelling out her return address in the top corner.  Leaning back against Cullen again, Talia opened and read the note quietly so the others couldn't hear. 

_"Dear Talia, I'm so glad Cully found someone who will put up with him._

_Since he's a giant baby,_

"I am not," Cullen muttered indignantly.  Talia just smirked and kept reading. 

_I thought you'd like to see pictures of him as a real baby (included).  Don't hold it against him that he's not that cute anymore._

_\- Mia"_

Cullen groaned.  Talia barely finished reading before she tossed the paper aside to investigate the pictures.  In one, a woman who could only be Martha Rutherford held a little bald infant, one pudgy hand tangled in her curls.  In another, a blonde toddler sat under a Satinalia tree, a bright green bow on his head.  A little girl sat beside him giggling. 

"That's Mia," Cullen supplied softly, more gentleness in his voice than Talia expected.  She shuffled to the next picture.  Cullen, still a toddler, wore a tiny helmet now, a plastic sword in his hand.  Behind him, an older man was goading him to 'attack' the cameraman. 

"That must have been my grandfather," Cullen explained, voice still soft.  "I hardly remember him.  That's my dad," he added, pointing to the man in the next photo.  He was standing waist-deep in a pool, holding baby Cullen around the middle so he could splash. 

"You're so cute," Talia said, looking at his captured smile. 

Cullen glanced at her.  "Not anymore, huh?" 

She kissed his cheek.  "Even more now.  Aww look!"  She held up the next picture, where he was chasing his mother around the living room with a stuffed lion while his father watched from the couch, an infant in his arms.  The picture was askew in the frame, like Mia had taken it.  The next, even cuter, must have been Cullen's first name day -- he was still bald, a little bib that said 'grammy loves me' around his neck and chocolate cake smeared all over his face and hands.  His parents, looking younger than Talia was now, stood behind him laughing, their arms around each other. 

"You all look so happy," Talia said a little sadly.  She was positive no such photos existed of her family. 

Cullen took the picture from her gently.  "We were," he said, smiling down at it.  He brushed a fingertip over his parents' faces.  "Mia must have gotten these after the funerals.  I… miss them." 

Talia tucked her arm around him, and he leaned into her.  "I'm so sorry," she said softly.  "They seem worth missing." 

"It was a good way to grow up," he replied as he caught sight of the next photo.  In it, Mia held an infant in her lap while Cullen and little Branson cried beside her, tears streaming down their chubby red faces.  "That's when Rosie was born.  I wasn't happy," he explained unnecessarily.  "I remember, I wanted a puppy." 

Talia laughed out loud.  That seemed perfectly fitting -- Cullen would have been almost six when Rosie was born, and she had no doubts that Bran would have wanted to be just like his big brother. 

In the next photo, all four Rutherford children were wearing All Soul's Day costumes -- Mia a witch, Cullen a knight, Bran an ogre, and little Rosie a pumpkin.  Bran was trying to terrorize his oldest sister, hands raised to attack, while Cullen was using his shield to prop Rosie up.  She couldn't have been more than a few months old. 

"Your armor's been upgraded here," Talia teased, and Cullen chuckled. 

"I was always a knight for All Soul's, as far back as I can remember," he said.  "I remember when I was ten, my mother tried to convince me to be something else -- a firefighter, I think."  He smiled at the memory.  "I wasn't having it.  I think I threatened not to go." 

Talia twisted in his arms to give him an incredulous look.  "Would that be where this picture is from?"  This latest showed Cullen face-down in the street, head buried in his hands.  An enormous dog sat with him, its jaws open in a smile. 

Cullen snatched it.  "That's Calenhad, my mum's old mabari!" He studied the picture for a long moment before he gave it back so Talia could get a proper look.  "Maker, I remember this dog following me everywhere.  Mum hated it because I'd get too attached to the puppies that refused to imprint on me." 

"You poor thing!" Talia giggled.  She could easily imagine a him as a kid trying to get a puppy to imprint so he could keep it.  "Someday you can meet Doc, he'll love you."  He looked at her strangely, and for just a moment, Talia almost reminded him about their conversation that first week in Skyhold, where they'd first laughed and then cried over this point of connection between them. 

But then Cullen smiled, and leaned over, and kissed her soundly, one hand sliding around the back of her neck to hold her close, and she knew he remembered. 

"I'd like that," he whispered when their lips parted.

"Me too," she answered.  She took a deep breath, those amber eyes meeting hers with such tenderness that she couldn't help herself.  "Cullen, I --"

Then a condom hit him in the side of the head, and the moment broke. 

"None of that, kids!" Iron Bull shouted from across the table. 

"Ewwww," sang Sera, oblivious to the irony even as Vivienne hid her smirk behind what looked like a novel-length letter.  Talia reluctantly disengaged herself and scooted back into her own chair.  Cullen, red faced but smiling, ducked his head to flip through the pictures again. 

Beside her, Dorian handed her a cream-colored envelope.  "Open this one next," he demanded.  "I'm dying of curiosity." 

Talia accepted it with a shrug, already recognizing the sloppy handwriting across the front.  Cullen glanced over. 

"Who's that from?" he asked.    

Talia smiled as she turned it over.  "I can't believe that of all people, they got Alistair to write me a note." 

He frowned.  "Alistair?" 

"Don't tell me you have another man out there, darling," Dorian said, though he sounded almost proud in counterpoint to Cullen's quiet concern. 

"Not even a little bit," Talia laughed.  She broke the enormous wax seal on the envelope with careful fingers.  "He's an old friend.  I knew his wife Alana in college." 

"Hang on, that looks like the Fereldan heraldry…" Cullen trailed off.  Smiling to herself, Talia waited for him to figure it out, secretly loving the deeply confused look on his face.  She glanced at Dorian, his smirk curling into his moustache.  Clearly he'd already put the names together. 

Cullen shook his head sharply.  "You can't mean… Alistair and Alana Theirin?" 

"Yep." 

"The King and Queen of Ferelden." 

"Yep."  Beside her, Dorian snorted back a laugh.  Cullen just stared, mouth open. 

When he still didn’t respond, Talia gave him a sly smile.  "He probably thinks your reaction is hilarious, you know." 

"Andraste's tits," he burst out, immediately straightening.  "I'd forgotten we were on camera!  Is he watching?" 

"I suspect so," she answered, skimming the envelope's contents.  "Especially if his demand that you kiss me is any indication." 

"He said no such thing." 

"I don't know, I think your King would be upset you doubted him," she teased, and he flushed. 

"Maker's breath, give me that!"  With a laugh, she passed him the note. 

_"Talia --_

_Maker, is that man ever going to kiss you?  Alana and I are dying with anticipation.  Tell him that his King demands he get a damn move on before I have to invade Orlais on your behalf._

_Hope you are doing well and all that. Come visit when you are done! Alana misses you, and I find myself noticing your absence as well.  Bring the mabari._

_\-- Alistair"_

Cullen read the note at least twice before he met her eyes.  "He said to… You know the King of Ferelden." 

She nodded.  "Quite well, actually." 

"And he… wants me to kiss you." 

She raised an eyebrow at him.  "I suspect he wrote it before the scavenger hunt, but yes." 

A smirk slid across his handsome face, replacing the look of mild panic with something far more delicious.  "Who am I, a lowly commoner, to refuse my king?"  He leaned in slowly, warm breath pulsing across her cheeks before he brushed his lips over hers.  Talia let her eyes drift closed and sank into him.  One hand crawled over his chest, bunching in his shirt as he pulled her into his lap, and she'd just opened her mouth to let his insistent tongue in when someone wolf-whistled. 

They shot apart, Cullen's eyes wide even though his hands were still gripping her hips like a lifeline.  Iron Bull leered at them from across the table, while Vivienne rolled her eyes and Varric seemed to be taking notes. 

"Andraste's fucking sword, I um.  Forgot we have an audience," she managed.  Somewhere, Alistair and Alana were having a laugh at her expense, she just knew it.    

"Quite a large one if it includes the King of Ferelden," Dorian piped up.  Sera, who had been juggling condoms, now tossed them with surprising accuracy down the front of Talia's shirt. 

"All on camera, yeah!" she said cheerfully before she bounced over to the table full of food. 

"Maker take me," Cullen muttered, and hid his face in her shoulder.  She run her hand through his hair with a smile. 

Before anyone could say anything else, Cassandra's firm voice cut through the haze of teasing.  "Cullen, did you open this envelope from Rylen yet?" 

The man under her looked up.  "I hadn't, no."  He released Talia's hips and she shifted to sit in her own chair once again.  Dorian offered her a high five as she moved, and she accepted with a smile.  Beside her, Cullen dug through his remaining mail, passing her yet another card from Mia, before he found a large manila envelope that matched the one in front of Cassandra. 

"Don't open it here," she cautioned.  Talia glanced at it and noticed CONFIDENTIAL stamped in enormous red letters.  Cullen gave her a quick look before standing. 

"I have to deal with this," he explained and kissed her quickly.  "I'll find you later?" 

"Of course," Talia answered.  "Dorian can keep me entertained until then." 

Beside her, Dorian grinned.  "I relish the task."  They watched Cassandra and Cullen leave, identical packages clutched in their hands as Varric led them to a room where they could talk without being recorded.  The second they were out of sight, Dorian pounced. 

"Our lovely blonde housemate spent the night in your bed," he purred.  Talia blushed even as though she couldn't help her guilty smile.  "Tell me everything." 

\---

Hours later, after Dorian and Bull had thoroughly interrogated and embarrassed her, Talia went in search of Cullen.   Since their departure, both he and Cassandra had been nowhere to be found; even Varric didn't know where they'd gone.  And even though Talia knew logically that Cullen was fine, she was having trouble abandoning him to whatever he was doing and simply going to bed.  He might need her.  Or collapsed somewhere in the house.  Worse, he could have gotten in an argument with Cassandra. 

She really didn't know. 

The cavernous halls of Skyhold stretched out around her as she looked for him.  The library was empty, as were the many rooms that lined the upstairs hallways.  No luck in the gym or his bedroom either, not that she'd expected to find him there.  She managed to find the chapel for the first time, making a mental note that there were no cameras there and perhaps Cullen might enjoy a blasphemous visit -- even if he was absent now.  And though she searched the laundry room, backyard, dining room, and bathroom (going so far as to peer under the stalls for his feet), she still couldn't find him. 

"Cullen, where the hell are you," she muttered to herself as she opened the door to the estate's basement.  She was fairly certain no one had been down there since the show began -- the door was tucked away past the sauna and the chapel and down another hallway, far beyond the realm of exploration for most of her housemates. 

In short, the perfect spot for a handsome workaholic to squirrel himself away. 

Sure enough, a light was on. 

The air cooled as she headed down the stairs, each step carved of dark polished wood befitting the antique nature of Skyhold itself.   It took surprisingly long to reach the bottom, but abruptly the tight walls flared out into an enormous room, its walls high and lined with tapestries.  It looked very like the old-fashioned dining room they'd been in earlier that day, all stone and candelabras and images of Andraste leading the charge against Tevinter.  In the far corner, a light pointed the way, and Talia wandered toward it slowly, taking everything in.  A dark fireplace waited along the far wall, its massive mantle covered in trinkets from around Thedas.  Closer by, she noticed a hallway that led toward what looked like a wine cellar, though she doubted that anything was stocked.   The dim light from the candles flickered as she moved past.  The whole room felt like the basement of some ancient castle, calm and stable, peaceful in a way she wasn't expecting. 

It was no surprise Cullen had sought it out. 

Light shone through the half-open door ahead of her, and Talia could hear what was unmistakably Cullen muttering to himself.  Her lips curved into a smile.  If she wasn't careful, she'd be lost to this man before she could stop herself -- and some part of her wondered if she already was. 

Brushing it off, she knocked on the door, letting her knuckles push it open.  "Cullen?  You in here?"  She didn't want to startle him. 

He looked up, one hand still buried in his hair so it stuck up at all angles.  "Talia?" 

"Hi."  She hesitated in the doorway.  "Is it okay if I interrupt?" 

"Of course, just let me…"  He made a note on whatever he was working on and carefully tucked everything back into the envelope.  Talia didn't step closer, only watched and let him have his privacy.  She was curious, of course, but confidential was confidential. 

When everything was neatly arranged on the broad desk where he'd been working, Cullen pushed himself to his feet.  "Hi," he said, giving her an awkward wave.  She raised an eyebrow. 

"Can I come in?" 

"Yes, I um. Yes." 

She took a step across the threshold before stopping.  "You vanished, you know." 

"Yes," he repeated, lifting a hand to rub the back of his neck.  "I'm sorry, something came through from the precinct, and Cassandra and I had to deal with it.   She left, but I thought I'd finish up." 

Talia glanced around the room: no clock in sight.  "It's almost midnight." 

His mouth stopped on whatever he'd been about to say.  "…oh." 

"Hence why I came looking for you," she added.  Some of it had been selfish, the desire to see him as hard to push away as ever, but she'd also been worried -- the mail had come before lunch, and it was well past time for bed, let alone dinner.  He must be hungry. 

The man before her ran an errant hand across his stomach. "Thank you.  I should…" 

"Are you okay?"  She interrupted.  She couldn't help it. His shoulders were bunched with tension, dark circles below his eyes.  The t-shirt he'd hurriedly grabbed that morning was covered in dust and wrinkled like he'd been twisting it in his hands all day.  Everything about him seemed off. 

His answer came haltingly.  "I… yes.  We just had to… clean up a little down here.  Varris said it's only of the only places without cameras, and we… needed the privacy." 

"What happened?"  She knew better than to ask, but couldn't help herself. 

Cullen ran a hand through his wild hair.  "It's… complicated.  The precinct is... a little short-staffed, and the Order is having problems back in Kirkwall.  I'll have to work some from here on out until the show's over.  Cass too." 

"Oh."  She turned his words over, unsure how to process them.  She didn't have a good history with the Order, not since her brother died.  And of course she'd heard the gossip about Kirkwall's branch in particular, both within and outside Varric's _Tale of the Champion_.  None of it was good, especially not with Meredith Stannard still in power.  She hated the woman on principle, like anyone with a soul. 

The thought struck her fast and hard before Talia remembered that, once, Cullen had counted himself among her supporters. 

She looked up from where she'd ripped a hangnail bloody to find Cullen studying her and blushing hard, even his ears red.  She must have missed something. 

"Sorry, I…"  Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to drop her hands.  "I don't really like the Order, so it's… hard to be sympathetic." 

Whatever Cullen had expected from her, it wasn't that. 

"I mean… I'm sorry you have to work now, that sucks, it's just… my opinion." 

He stepped closer, hesitated, and then with a shake of his head, pulled her into a hug.  "I don't know what happened, but I'm sorry for it," he said quietly.  Talia could feel the weight of what the Order did to his life in his words, and hugged him back fiercely. 

"It wasn't you, Cullen, but thank you." 

He nodded and pressed his lips into her hair.  Smiling, Talia leaned further into his chest.  "What were you saying before?" 

"Oh, I…"  He twisted to look down at her.  "Can I… sleep with you? In your room, I mean?"  That blush came roaring back. 

She let out a huff of laughter.  "Sure." 

Cullen, however, kept going like he had already geared up for her to hesitate.  "I'm not trying to push things further, not that I don't want to be intimate with you," he babbled.  "It's just that… I don't want to be alone." 

Talia stepped back and took his face in her hands.  "Cullen, I said yes." 

"Oh.  Are you sure?" 

She smiled.  "I can tell you think this is a really big deal, but I promise you, it's not.  You can stay with me whenever." 

"I… Thank you," he replied, dipping his head to kiss her.  "I appreciate it." 

"Come on," she said, slipping from his embrace to grab his hand.  "Let's have a midnight snack and go to bed." 

"That sounds perfect," he answered.  But walking ahead, she couldn't see how he stared at her as he said it, that soft smile on his face like he couldn't imagine a better night. 

 


	21. Chapter 21

The sun was just breaking through the blinds when Talia awoke to one extremely cheerful blonde man and one dour-looking woman.  Her brain took a few extra seconds to process them as Cassandra and Cullen. 

They were in matching Kirkwall PD t-shirts, though Cass had finished her look with leggings while Cullen was wearing some obscenely short shorts.  The compression briefs under them went a good two inches further down his pale legs. 

Talia was just starting to admire the lines of muscle that defined his quads when Cassandra cleared her throat. 

"Well," she growled.  "If you're joining us, let's go." 

What the hell?  Talia sat up slowly, wiping sleep from her eyes as the sheet fell off.  Since Cullen had joined her semi-permanently a few days before, she'd given up sleeping under a blanket; the man radiated heat like she'd invited an actual furnace into her bed, making everything else superfluous.  The only reason she was wearing a shirt was that Cassandra had refused to be kicked out to Cullen's old bed past that one night of privacy. 

It'd made for a long night since.  She'd even forced them to take his underwear off the camera, no small amount of disgusted noises accompanying the endeavor. 

Cullen sat down on the bed and handed her a bottle of water.  "You said you'd come running with us." 

"I did? When was this?" 

Cassandra grumbled.  "You have five minutes, or I'm leaving without you."  She left, closing the door much harder than necessary.  Talia was vividly reminded of the shouting match earlier in the week. 

"It was the first morning we woke up together," Cullen explained. 

"I sort of remember that."  The pieces were dropping into place, though Talia was more than a little surprised.  Was she really so far gone that she'd promised to go running with him?  Maker, she hated running.  She yawned.  "Does it have to be today?" 

Cullen was scratching the back of his neck.  "Cass thinks it'll be good for me to share what we're working on with you.  She's worried I'll overexert myself." 

Talia smiled.  "And I won't let you, huh?" 

He chuckled.  "Exactly." 

"Then I guess I'll get up."  With a groan, she shoved herself off the bed and headed for her closet.   Somewhere she must have a sports bra that could handle running. 

Behind her, Cullen stood and started jogging in place.  She gave him a look.  "What're you doing?" 

He didn't pause.  "I need to warm up."  Talia rolled her eyes. 

"Ugh, you're such a morning person."  She renewed her search for some sneakers.  Even she knew she shouldn't run in Converse. 

They were probably outside Cassandra's prescribed five minutes by the time Talia dug up a pair of clean-enough leggings and socks, but eventually she and Cullen made it outside.  The tall Seeker was stretching on the patio, forehead on her knees.  Talia was vaguely impressed.  To her credit, Cassandra didn't say anything rude when they joined her, only moved through a few more stretches before leading the way toward the running path through Skyhold's grounds. 

The day was still new enough for the air to be fresh and crisp, and Talia breathed deep as they jogged.  The grass brushed her ankles, kissing them with dew.  Ahead of them, the path disappeared into the trees, towering high and promising shade as the sun rose higher.  Beyond the grounds, the Orlesian countryside rolled away, dotted with estates and gardens much like the one they jogged through.  Talia couldn't help being carried away by the romance of it; why wasn't she up earlier to enjoy this lovely view with the peace of a new day?

Then Cassandra, judging they were all properly warmed up, started running in earnest, and Talia  remembered. 

It wasn't that she was out of shape, she told herself as she struggled to keep up.  She worked out.  Yoga certainly, and at home she tried to lift weights the three recommended days a week.  It was just that her cardio normally took the form of dance videos, and here she was with two fully trained and vetted police officers.  Their jobs required physical fitness on a level she couldn't even imagine.  She'd seen Cullen do enough pushups to make _her_ arms hurt and Cassandra spike a volleyball so hard it nearly popped.  Hell, when the two of them sparred, Talia was convinced it was nothing short of a miracle that neither got hurt. 

Keeping up with them was laughable. 

They ran until her lungs burned, her knees aching from the impact of the trail under her feet.  Cullen glanced at her as he ran, hardly seeming out of breath, but there was no mistaking the concern on his face.  She tried to brush him off, shaking her head 'no' every time. 

So they kept going.

And going.

And going. 

After Maker-alone-knew how long, even Cullen looked beat, his face flushed and sweaty.  "You okay?"  He forced out with a glance at Talia, nearly stumbling on the trail, and she shook her head. 

"Can we… stop?"

"Cass, slow up," Cullen said immediately, his pace dropping to a crawl.  "I need a minute." 

"Me too," Talia added.  Maker, why running?  What was wrong with them?  Cassandra didn't even look like she'd broken a sweat, how was that possible?  She was about to ask when the Seeker passed her a water bottle and distracted her. 

"I'm impressed," Cassandra told them.  "You lasted far longer than I thought you would." 

Cullen, who'd been using the tail of his shirt to wipe his face, dropped it to glare at her.  "What does that mean?" 

"Nothing," the Seeker flicked an eyebrow up.  "Just thought your morning could use some spicing up." 

Talia passed the water bottle to Cullen, who was glaring at Cass.  "You're punishing us for the underwear thing!" 

"I don't know what you're talking about," she answered with a smirk.  Cullen studied her for a moment before squirting her with the water bottle.  The Seeker froze for a second before leveling a murderous look at him.  

"Was that really necessary?"  

He glared right back.  "Yes."

It was Talia's turn to roll her eyes.  "How about you two explain what's going on with the envelopes," she interrupted, before anyone could get hurt. 

"Yes, Cullen, you should explain," Cassandra said without hesitation. 

"Me? I… All right."  He finished stretching his quads and gestured toward the trail.  "Come on, you'll get stiff if you stop." 

"What?"  She didn't know how much more of this she could take without keeling over. 

"I'll pace, not Cass," he reassured her.  They started up again, this time much slower, and Talia listened as their assignment unfolded.  It didn't quite alleviate the pain, but it helped. 

Apparently back home in Kirkwall, one of Cullen's friends had been fired.  This in itself wasn't too unusual -- Cullen explained that while Raleigh had been a Templar for years, he often fought with their superiors or put himself on the line for causes that perhaps were better left alone.  The news that Stannard had finally had it wasn't surprising, even if he refused to tell Talia what exactly had prompted it. 

In the weeks since he'd been fired, Raleigh Samson had spent most of his time trying to scrape together money for lyrium, or consorting with a growing network of underground mages, led by a local healer named Anders (Talia recognized his name from Varric's Tale of the Champion).   Rylen had mentioned this to Cass, she added almost reluctantly, but it had been during Cullen's hospital stay.  It hadn't seemed prudent to upset him. 

But now, Samson had vanished.  No one, not Aveline's guards or any of Cullen's old Templar buddies or even Hawke herself had been able to find him. 

This seemed bad enough (at least to Talia), but apparently the search for the missing Templar had turned into a full-out battle between Aveline's police force and Stannard's Templars.  Aveline wanted him found, but Meredith and her policies blocked her from information at every turn.   And those policies were getting more extreme and xenophobic by the day -- part of the note Aveline had sent Cullen and Cassandra explained that Kirkwall had seen a sharp uptick in conflicts in the streets,  including deaths, between apostates and the police.  The Templars in the Gallows branded more and more mages, many without obvious cause, and First Enchanter Orsino had called a press conference to denounce Stannard publically, a move that was pushing the Viscount and Knight-Commander to call for further sanctions against the mages. 

In all, Kirkwall was a mess.  The entire city was feeling the tension between the Circle and the Templars, with no end in sight. 

Aveline was short-staffed what with two of her officers playing around on a reality show and had decided they needed a break from their vacation.   The paperwork they'd been sent was every report and file on Samson Aveline could find.  Her husband Donnic was heading the task force that was supposed to figure out how to find compromise between the mages and the Templars, and he'd sent Cullen every newspaper clipping and police report he could find on the growing conflict between Stannard and Orsino. 

"That… sounds awful," Talia said when Cullen had finished.  She wasn’t entirely sure if she was processing the whole thing right -- she knew so little about Kirkwall other than what Varric had included in his book. 

"It is," Cassandra agreed.  "Rylen didn't tell me the extent of it until now."    

"So your boss… wants you to what, solve it from here?  Is that possible?" 

"It's more that she wants extra eyes on the reports," Cullen said, but Cassandra shook her head. 

"Cullen is the liaison between the Kirkwall police and the Templars," she explained.  "And since he used to work for Meredith…" 

Cullen glowered.  "It's not like I have any idea why she's doing any of this," he snapped.  "I knew her a long time ago." 

"It sounds like the police and the Templars are pretty intertwined," Talia said carefully.  Between her own issues with the Templars and Cullen's history, she didn't want to start anything. 

"Yes," Cullen said shortly. 

Cassandra grunted.  "They wouldn't be if Aveline got her way, but she and Rylen don't have much choice.  It's been that way since Meredith took power." 

"Which was by force, right?"  Talia remembered reading about it in the papers, but it had been almost four years ago. 

"Yes," Cassandra answered, just as Cullen said, "It's complicated." 

They jogged in awkward silence before Cassandra stopped short and rounded on Cullen.  "After all this time, you still cannot admit it." 

Cullen's mouth settled in a hard line.  "It was, Cassandra.  You have no idea what it was like when the Arishok killed the Viscount." 

Cassandra crossed her arms over her chest.  "I was in the city." 

"No.  For Templars."  For a moment, he seemed like he was going to step into the Seeker's space before his shoulders went slack and he looked away.   "We held the city together with gunfire and prayer.  That more didn't die was nothing short of miraculous." 

Silence hung over them uneasily until Cassandra finally nodded. 

"I recruited you only a few months later," she said.  "I hadn't thought of why you were so eager to leave." 

He shook his head.  "I… It should have stopped.  I never thought it would lead here.  I should have stopped it." 

"Cullen…"  Talia said it quietly, hardly daring to interrupt.   He glanced at her like he'd forgotten she was there before he sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. 

"Can this not become a conversation about my failings, please?" 

"That's not how I intended it," Cassandra said, turning away and starting to jog again.  They followed.  "I'm sorry." 

After they'd settled into a rhythm, Cullen cleared his throat.  "The important part is this: Cassandra and I will have to work some over the coming weeks.  They've found space in the house that's unsupervised since it's an ongoing investigation." 

"Are you sure you were supposed to tell me?" Talia asked.  It didn't sound like something she should know. 

"It is… at my discretion," Cassandra said carefully.   "As long as you do not share it further." 

"Of course I won't." 

"Plus, Cullen will need you to remind him to eat," Cassandra added.  Cullen shot her a dirty look.  "He has a bad habit of falling asleep at his precinct desk." 

Talia couldn't help laughing, even if it did cost her a deep breath as they ran.  "I think I've got that covered." 

They jogged together a while longer, until the path turned back up through Skyhold's enormous backyard.  Cassandra waved them on, saying she wanted to do another lap of the grounds, and Talia and Cullen let her go, both content to head for the house. 

Cullen reached for her hand the second they slowed and laced their fingers.  "I'm sorry to have to work," he said, giving her a small smile.

"I don't mind," she answered, and she was surprised to find it was true.  Part of the inevitable transition back into the real world meant they'd have to find a way to balance leisure and work and travel and everything else that waited for them.  Figuring that out now was probably better in the long run. 

They walked in silence for a few minutes, Talia trying to catch her breath, before she tugged on Cullen's arm to stop.  "Hey," she said, reaching for his other hand.  "Your friend disappeared.  Are you okay?" 

"I am," he answered, though the lines creasing his cheeks belied his worry.  "Though I admit, I don't know what to think.  I'm not sure Samson is really missing, or if he just… left." 

Talia frowned.  "Is that something he would do?" 

"Perhaps.  I'm not sure.  He's… a tough friend to have." 

"Regardless, I'm sorry," she said.  Cullen squeezed her hand and started toward the house once again. 

"It is what it is," he replied.  "We will find him." 

"What about the rest of Kirkwall?" 

"That… I truly don't know."  She watched his face cloud before he gave her a tight smile.  "I will do what I can, but I have to trust that whatever it is, the city can handle it." 

"You don't sound convinced." 

He chuckled.  "I'm not."  When he didn't say more, Talia squeezed his hand. 

"It'll be okay, Cullen," she offered, knowing it probably wasn't what he wanted to hear, probably wasn't enough, but she didn't know what else to say. 

"Thank you."  They'd reached the house, and he opened the door for her.  "Lunch later?" 

"Oh, we're…"  She took a deep breath, trying not to show the disappointment coursing through her.  It didn't seem fair to put that on him too, not when so much else was going on.  "Yes, of course." 

He kissed her sweaty hair and headed for the kitchen.  Talia watched him go.  The desire to pull him into the shower with her was unsurprising, especially as she studied the dark arrow of sweat running down his back.  But deeper down lingered the same unease she'd felt weeks before, when she'd first wondered if it might be more prudent not to get involved with anyone on the show. 

Everything was so much more complicated than it should be here.  Spending this much time together in the real world would amount to three or four months of dating, minimum -- between jobs and busy schedules and everything else, they'd be in the same place with a lot more to show for it.  The cameras, of course, inhibited a big part of their relationship.  She hated that  she never knew if Cullen's hesitance to move their physical relationship further was due to how he felt, or the cameras. 

She didn't know what her own hesitance was either. 

What she did know what that now that they were involved, she didn't want it to end.  She wanted to sleep curled up next to him and share work stories and strip his clothes off in the living room and leave her toothbrush beside his and watch bad movies together and everything else that came with a real relationship.  At some point, they really needed to talk about what happened next.  And maybe get on with that 'taking each other's clothes off' thing in the process. 

She needed help. 

 ---

Two days later, pool-side with Dorian, she found it. 

"Andraste's tits, this whole situation sucks!"  Talia threw herself onto the deck chair and flung one arm over her eyes.  "I'm so sick of this stupid show."   

"Have a drink," the mage said, waving an enormous margarita at her.  She moved her arm just enough to eye it suspiciously.

"Does it have tequila?" 

Dorian gave her an offended look.  "You really think I'd make a drink without booze? You wound me." 

Talia grabbed it and took a long drink before leaning back in her chair.  "A girl can't be too careful.  After our run, Cassandra made me a smoothie, and I swear it had kale in it." 

"No kale," he laughed.  "Just sour mix and a ridiculous amount of alcohol." 

"Sold." 

They drank in amiable silence for a few minutes before Dorian smirked at her.  "So.  You're upset." 

Talia grunted.  "Observant." 

"I didn't piss in your cereal, so don't bite my head off."  Talia stuck her tongue out at him and dove back into her margarita. 

"Care to share what's got your panties in a twist?" 

She threw her head back against the chair, nearly upsetting her sunglasses.  "Nothing, Dorian!" 

"Really now, I refuse to believe that." 

"No, seriously."  Tilting the sunglasses down, she gave him a significant look.  "Nothing." 

Luckily he got the message.  "Oh for fuck's sake.  What in Thedas is wrong with the man?" 

"I don't know!" she nearly wailed.  "I keep thinking that all we need is the opportunity, but he's always working, and I have no idea how to distract him.  What am I doing wrong?" 

Dorian pursed his lips around a curly straw.  "We are on camera all the time." 

"That doesn't stop you and Bull." 

"True, but neither of us were raised in shame-based households like you dear Andrastians." 

"I wasn't either." 

He smirked.  "Which is why you are okay with the cameras." 

"Ew.  I'm not _that_ okay with them." 

"My point is," he continued with a roll of his eyes.  "He is cautious, where we are not.  Plus, didn't you tell me his friend disappeared?" 

Talia remembered this with all the weight of a falling Chantry.  "Oh Maker, and I've been trying to fuck him."  She groaned and hid her face in the palm of her hand.  "Fuck me, I'm a terrible person." 

"No on both counts," Dorian replied.  "You're just in a new relationship and not getting any.  I'd be pissy too.  I was, briefly."  He turned back to his drink, those eyebrows raised as he swirled the contents of the glass. 

She glanced at him.  The whole house was aware of Dorian's… lack of frustration.  "How's that going, by the way?" 

He made a face.  "Swimmingly.  The great lout wants me to commit to him, as if that's really necessary when there's no one else in the house I'd sleep with.  Or who'd sleep with me, as it were." 

"Something tells me there's more to Bull wanting to be exclusive." 

"Of course there is," Dorian huffed.  "He wants us to have what you and Cullen have, all that cutesy cuddling nonsense." 

Talia raised her eyebrows at him.  "I'm sorry, do you mean a relationship?" 

That got a rise out of him.  "Exactly! That’s so normal and disgusting! I don't want that, nothing about me is normal!  I want glitz and glamour and excitement, not grocery shopping and discussions about indigestion."  He nearly spilled his drink as he swung it about. 

"I think you overestimate how much couples talk about gastrointestinal issues." 

"Not the point," Dorian said with finality.  "And we're off topic.  We were trying to figure out how to get you laid." 

As much as she appreciated the effort, Talia couldn't help shaking her head.  "Anything so you don't have to talk about your feelings." 

"Exactly," he answered.  "So.  You and Cullen aren't having sex." 

"Can you stop saying that? Just hearing the word is making me hot." 

"Try to control yourself," he answered, complete with an enormous eye roll.  "The point is, sex is supposed to be part of things in a new relationship." 

"I don't disagree, but we are trying to take things slow to make sure we're compatible.  And it's not exactly a normal relationship, what with the show and all."  It was the same logic she'd been turning over in her mind for days, weeks maybe, and gotten nowhere.

Dorian wasn't having her excuses.  "That doesn't mean the rules change." 

"Yeah, but maybe it should.  Cameras, he got sick… Seems like those things should matter." 

He shrugged.  "That seems all the more reason to jump each other's bones to me." 

"I'm beginning to see why Bull wants you to be exclusive.  You might try to jump Cullen if he's not careful." 

"Don't be a tease."  Talia waited for him to say more, but he took a long sip from his drink and made a 'hurry up' gesture.  She sighed. 

"Dorian, I just… I don't want to push.  Cullen's so nice, he puts exactly zero pressure on me, and while that was really nice at first… I don't know.  Now it's been a month since we started dating, which I'm pretty sure is at least a third date in real world time --"

Dorian snorted.  "Don't tell me you buy into that 'third date equals sex' nonsense."  

Talia leveled a glare at him.  "It's a metaphor, Dorian."  He gave her a dubious look.  "That's not the point! I just… I really like him, and still, nothing."  She threw up her hands in defeat before reaching for her drink again. 

"Hm." 

"It's super frustrating." 

"I imagine so," he replied sagely.

Talia gave him a dirty look.  "I don't just mean like that."  He shrugged one shoulder before turning back to his margarita.  They again drank in companionable silence while Dorian pondered her situation and Talia felt sorry for herself. 

After a while, Dorian glanced at her.  "Maybe the man just needs a hint.  He's quiet and cautious… He might need some clues." 

She gave a disgusted grunt.  "Like an anvil?" 

"No, no," he said, waving away the mental image of Cullen being flattened cartoon-style.  "More like… a night off.  A break from whatever it is he's doing.  But not those sickeningly sweet breaks where I find him asleep in your lap while you read or whatnot.  Those make me nauseous, and they certainly won't help you get laid." 

"That's common, actually." 

"I know you aren't talking about the sex, so… him falling asleep on you?"  Talia nodded.  Dorian wrinkled his nose.  "Oh, honey, you two are much too young for that shit.  You need help." 

"I know," she sighed and ran a hand over her face.  "Maybe this is stupid.  Things are really good, and I don't want to screw it up.  I really like him, and he's so sweet and thoughtful… Maybe I shouldn't push it.  Maybe he doesn't want to go further yet, you know?" 

Dorian laughed out loud.  "Then why on earth would he leave the room every time you eat a banana?"

Talia stared at him for a second.  "What?" 

A delighted smile spread across the mage's face.  "Oh, you've never noticed! That's adorable.  Talia, darling, the man can't be in the room while you eat a deliciously phallic piece of fruit.  He looks like he's about to combust." 

"Really?"  Mornings usually consisted of a banana and a cup of coffee in the kitchen; sometimes Cullen was there, and sometimes not.  She hadn't noticed anything unusual.  

Dorian just grinned.  "It's beautiful.  Trust me, he wants you."   

"But lately he works all the time.  He even turned me down to do paperwork!" 

"Okay, first, let's remember: the man is nothing if not dedicated to his task.  So there's that."  He paused to take a drink, a slow smirk spreading across his face.  "But did you ever think that perhaps he's using work to distract himself from you?" 

"Like… what?  He wants me so bad but doesn't want to pressure me, so he avoids me and works instead?"  The idea was sounding more and more like Cullen the longer she spoke. 

"Um, duh?"  Dorian looked so pleased with himself that Talia was instantly defensive.  "You said yourself that he's exhaustingly nice." 

"I didn't say it like that," she answered, crossing her arms over her chest. 

"Regardless, I may have some ideas on how to use it to your advantage." 

"I'm suspicious of your methods." 

He pulled down his sunglasses to give her a salacious wink.  "You love me." 

Talia rolled her eyes and reached to refill her drink.  "Help me out with Cullen, and I will.  Hell, get me laid, and I'll give you my firstborn." 

"Oh darling, I don't want that," he answered, looking mildly appalled.  "Just promise me details." 

She made a mental note not to reveal anything too embarrassing and nodded.  "Whatever you want." 

He smiled the biggest shit-eating grin she'd ever seen.  "You remember how you and Blackwall won the scavenger hunt?" 

"Sure." 

"Did you ever use the day without cameras perk?" 

The light bulb clicked on.  "Dorian, that's brilliant!" 

"Oh, honey," he said, shaking his head before leaning in conspiratorially.  "I'm just getting started." 


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. Apparently starting a new career takes a lot more time than I thought. Thank you for waiting for me - I swear to you, this story is not over, and I will not give it up until it's done. 
> 
> As evidence of my sincerest apologies and commitment, have 9000 words of fluff and smut! (Note the rating change!)

Cullen knew he hadn't been in the basement office for long, but it felt like hours.  Every minute he spent holed up here was a minute he wasn't on the show, wasn't being recorded, wasn't being shown off to Thedas -- but it was also a minute he wasn't with Talia. 

The show was over in three weeks.  Three weeks, and he'd go back to his normal life.  Three weeks, and Talia would go back to hers.  Three weeks, and there would be a continent between them.  He had no idea what they were going to do.  The rest of the world seemed intent on separating them even now, as Kirkwall's politics and turmoil seeped into the stone around him and turned what little time was left into the same never-ending stream of work he'd always embraced. 

For the first time in his life, he wanted to send it all crashing to the floor and abandon it, if only so he could hold Talia close and never let go. 

It was selfish, he knew, and that kept him working.  He'd spent too many years being selfish, driven by anger and hate.  That now he was motivated by softer things, concern and compassion and perhaps even love, didn't sway his conscience.  Kirkwall, maybe Thedas, needed him working, and so work he did. 

It had been a long week of late nights and little sleep, but he was finally nearing the end of the file Aveline and Donnic had sent.  Likely he'd turn around and start again at the beginning, his notes about the patterns he saw spiraling away on the legal pad beside him, but finally, he was close. 

An all-too-familiar knock sounded at the door, and he sighed.  Talia.  He'd been pushing her away this past week, letting himself sink into this endless file so he didn't get distracted. 

Maker's breath, but she was distracting. 

It wasn't just that he wanted to spend all his time with her -- he wanted _her_ , wanted to beg she stay with him after the show, demand that she tell him how she felt, if that whisper from days ago was true.  And he wanted to do all the things he'd been trying desperately not to think about, all the delicious things her lips promised every time she kissed him, and he was afraid to ask if she really meant it. 

If she might love him, like he might love her. 

Nine weeks, and his life would never be the same. 

Talia pushed the door open.  “Hey there,” she said, leaning against the door jamb.  “Have time for a break?” 

He knew the smile on his face looked goofy, but the answering grin on her face made it all okay.   “For you? Always.” 

She came closer, planting one hand squarely in the middle of his notes as she leaned in to kiss him.  “Good.  I have a surprise upstairs.” 

“Will it take long?”  The smile on her face vanished. 

“Cullen.  It’s been days since we spent any real time together.”  He started to protest only for her to hold up her hand.  “And you sneaking into bed doesn’t count.”

“We had dinner together two days ago.” 

 “Me eating next to you while you work doesn’t count either.” 

He heaved a sigh before smiling with all the charm he could muster.  “You’re right.  Just let me finish this…”  He made a vague gesture at the mess covering the desk. 

“Cullen…” 

“It’ll only take a minute,” he insisted.  She pushed herself off the desk and crossed her arms. 

“Fine.  But if you’re late…”  Cullen waited, fearing she’d say she was sending Cassandra after him.  The Seeker hadn’t been particularly understanding of his relapse into old workaholic habits.  “I’m sending Dorian down to get you.” 

Oh Maker.  That was infinitely worse.  “I promise.  Ten minutes, and I’m yours.” 

She arched an eyebrow at him before turning to leave.  “You better be,” she said, and he could hear the smirk he knew was painting her face. 

“Always,” he answered, though he knew she didn’t hear it.  “Always.” 

\---

Whether it was Talia, or the threat of Dorian, or just that he'd finished what needed doing, Cullen made it upstairs without incident. 

Everyone was gathered in the kitchen, chatting and waiting for some unknown announcement.  When Talia saw him, she smiled brightly and whispered something to Dorian, who immediately gestured for quiet. 

"Talia and Blackwall have generously bestowed a gift on us this evening," he announced dramatically.  Beside him, Talia rolled her eyes.   "Between, oh, now, and 10:00 pm, every camera in the house has been turned off." 

Silence hung over them as they processed this news before Varric asked what they were all thinking.  "How'd you swing that, Sunburst?" 

Talia looked extraordinarily pleased with herself.  "That was the prize for winning the scavenger hunt, remember?"  Around the room, everyone started nodding slowly as they understood.  "Neither of us was using it for anything, so we decided to split it up with all of us.  That's why it's only a few hours - we couldn't convince the producers for any longer." 

"That's more than enough time to relax," Blackwall added.  "Especially since we're close to the end of the show." 

"It sounds perfect," Vivienne agreed.  Beside her, Bull nodded. 

Talia smiled even wider.  "We don't have anything special planned really, but there's food and music, and Dorian and I set up a mini bar out by the pool." 

Sera bounced up and darted for the door.  "Let's go, time's wasting!"  The group watched her bound toward the pool, and when no one else moved, Dorian made a shooing motion toward the patio. 

"She's right, get going!"  Everyone dispersed rapidly after that, heading in different directions for swimsuits and drinks and the opportunity to be unobserved, however brief.  Soon enough, it was only Cullen and Talia still standing in the kitchen. 

She was smiling at him.  "Told you I had a surprise." 

"A worthwhile one, at that," he said, stepping close.  She trailed a hand along his chest. 

"Do you want to go swim?" 

"Not at the moment, no."  Cullen stepped closer again, until Talia was backed up against the kitchen counter.  She raised her jaw defiantly. 

"What do you want then?" 

He didn't answer.  Instead he lifted her onto the counter and leaned into her.  She was kissing him before he could get her properly settled, all warm hands and lips and legs wrapped tight around his waist. 

Neither of them noticed the door opening behind them until Bull said, "Okay you two, you wanna do that, be my guest, but not where everyone can see you." 

Cullen felt his face flush as they fell apart, Talia leaning back on the counter while he tried to angle his hips to hide his arousal.  "Bite me, Bull," she said conversationally, but she rolled off the counter anyway. 

"Seems like Cullen's got that covered," he replied with a shrug as he headed to raid the fridge. 

"Not with you here, he doesn't," she answered. 

"Maker's breath," Cullen muttered, rubbing at the back of his neck.  Talia giggled and grabbed his hand. 

"Come on, let's go change." 

"Atta girl," Bull called as they headed down the hall.  Talia ducked into her room before he could say anything, shutting down any hopes Cullen might have had of their ditching the pool party.  With a sigh, he too went to change. 

She met him back in the hallway, a sarong tied around her hips.  To his surprise, she was wearing a bikini top, which left a long slashing scar visible across her abdomen.  He'd seen it before but never asked; like his own scars, he figured the story was one she didn't want to share with an audience.  Even if they didn't have one now, he wasn't going to pry. 

Instead, he reached for her hand and twined their fingers together.  Talia smiled softly at him and, with a squeeze, led the way back to the pool. 

Of course, Sera and Dorian pounced on her the moment they reached the patio, leaving Cullen to meander over to get a beer before dropping into the seat next to Bull.  But he caught the way she looked at him over her shoulder, the tiny smile just for him before Sera tossed her into the water.  It spoke of promises, and peace, and a future Cullen had never before let himself contemplate.

The afternoon passed in a similar relaxed fashion.  Though he and Talia were mostly apart, pulled in different directions by friends and games and laughter, every time he found himself alone, she was there.  Sometimes it was reaching around him to grab a drink, her hand warm on his back.  Sometimes it was just a look shared across the patio, like when Varric dragged Cass away to do Maker-knew-what, leaving Cullen unceremoniously abandoned.  Once, he'd looked up from a story Blackwall was telling about hiding gold in his backyard to find Talia watching him from the middle of the pool.  He met her eyes, and instead of looking away, she'd smiled and blew him a kiss.  Dorian pretended to gag beside her, prompting her to turn and punch his shoulder, but warmth spread through Cullen's chest anyway. 

It was during a quiet moment that Talia came to find him.  He was relaxing by himself, rolling a beer between his hands so like that first day in the house as he watched everyone else.  They'd calmed too, it seemed -- Varric, Cassandra, Blackwall, and Vivenne were chatting quietly, plates in hand, while Dorian looked nearly asleep in Bull's lap, the big qunari's hand running down his back.  Sera was nowhere to be found, perhaps making good on her threat to black out all the cameras in the house while they couldn't stop her.  And Talia…

Talia, who had been swimming lazily and chatting with Sera before her disappearance, now climbed out of the pool, water streaming down her long legs and inspiring all sorts of dangerous thoughts in Cullen's head.  They could get up to all sorts of trouble without cameras, after all.  Her walk toward him, hands wringing water from her hair above her rolling hips, didn't help. 

She stopped in front of him, lips moving, but he didn't hear a word. 

"Cullen."  She waved a hand in front of his face and he started, sheepishly making eye contact as he blushed.  To his relief, she was smiling.  “Come swim with me?” 

He smiled back.  “I’m yours.” Climbing to his feet, he pulled his shirt over his head, not a thought spared for the scars that crawled across his back.   Talia led the way, fingertips brushing the water’s surface as she drifted down the steps.  Behind her, Cullen hesitated, the desire to feel the slip of her skin against his warring with a childish need to sweep her off her feet and toss her in the deep end. 

The deep end won. 

He picked her up almost before she could even react, and with a squeal, she splashed into the water.  Laughter bubbled out of him, memories of playing with his siblings welling up, but the amusement faded when Talia didn’t surface. 

Cullen had almost started to panic when he saw her shape beneath the water – coming toward him fast, and he didn’t have time to catch her before she’d grabbed handfuls of his shorts and yanked them down. 

“Shite, woman, are you mad?”  He grabbed at himself, trying to cover his bum before one of their housemates noticed.  By the time he got the shorts situated again, Talia had surfaced, giggling to herself.  He noted she was keeping her distance. 

“That’s it,” he muttered, lunging for her.  She yelped and dove sideways, but he caught her, too quick to let her get away.  “Gotcha.”  He grinned, pulling her closer until he could wrap his arms around her. 

“Let me go,” she whined, pushing at his chest. 

“Why, so you can… can…”

“Pants you?”  She supplied, laughing again, and he tickled her in protest. 

“Exactly,” he answered, smirking as she tried to break free and failed.  “You’re trapped now.” 

Talia raised an eyebrow.  “I am, huh?”  She ran the tip of her tongue along her lips.  “What if I like that?”  Below the water, her fingertips ran along the top of his shorts.  Cullen caught her hand before it could travel anywhere risky. 

“Don’t try to trick me,” he said, resettling his hands on her hips.  Her legs, he noted, slid up to wrap around his waist. 

“I’m not,” she said innocently.  She leaned closer, and closer, until her lips just brushed his.  “It’s just…” 

“What?”  He asked, fighting down the urge to kiss her first. 

“I want…” She twisted in his arms, warm mouth closing over his earlobe.   Cullen bit back a groan. 

“Tease,” he muttered when she leaned back, looking smug. 

“You like it.” 

“I do,” he said.  Feeling adventurous, he let his hand drift from her hip to her groin.  Her eyes widened, but she said nothing, waiting to see what he would do.  Slowly he fluttered his fingers, tips just brushing the crotch of her suit. 

She sucked in a breath.  “Cullen…”  He looked up to meet her eyes, saw her mouth hanging just the slightest bit open, and found that he couldn't move his hand away. 

"Is this all right?"  he breathed, so quiet he could barely hear himself. 

Talia lowered her forehead to his, the teasing of moments before slipping away, and nodded.  He leaned up to kiss her, lips cool from the water.  She sank into him, mouth opening hot and welcoming to his tongue.  Her legs tightened around his waist as she rolled her hips just a bit.    Cullen rubbed a careful circle around her clit and felt her gasp into his mouth.  Well below the water, his cock twitched in his board shorts.

They should not be doing this.  No way -- this was public, far too many people around to notice something even if the cameras were off.  But the way Talia was just barely moving in his lap, his thumb clearly right where she wanted it, was near-perfection.  He didn't want to stop. 

Kissing her again, Cullen pressed harder, dropping the pretense between them that he was doing anything even remotely appropriate.  A devious part of him wondered just how far he could take this before they had to stop, and he pulled her suit aside to brush her core.  She wriggled in his arms, hips twitching in surprise.  The angle wasn't right; Cullen couldn't slide his fingers inside her, not without giving something away.  So instead he stroked along her slit, feeling the slick warmth of her and knowing he couldn't quite do anything about it. 

"Cullen," she whined.  His cock twitched again, interest far too obvious pressed against her ass under the water. 

"Yes," he managed, feeling breathless.  With a noise that was just a little too loud, Talia ground down on his erection, his thumb pressed tight to her clit.  Void take it, he didn't want to stop, but if that happened again… they'd be caught, no question. 

Cullen kissed her again, passion burning through him.  The fine thread of his control was fraying the longer they took things slowly; he was so badly torn between the desire roiling through him and the underlying knowledge that this relationship was different from any other in his life.  He would not jeopardize what it could be for sex. 

That made resisting the ache in his groin the right thing, but not necessarily the easy one.  Once, long ago, he'd pushed all forms of sex away, a conscious refusal to deal with what had happened to him in Kinloch.  Even when a kind precinct-appointed therapist had helped him work through it, a lot of baggage remained.  Now, years later, it meant that for the first time since he was a teenager, all he could think about was sex. 

He didn't know if that was a source of shame, or an indicator of how dramatically Talia, and the show along with her, had changed his life.  The old Chantry mother from his childhood insisted it was shame, but he'd lived enough to know different.  To know better.  

And when Talia herself seemed to want to move things along just as badly… He didn't see how it could be shameful anymore, to want to share such an intimate experience with her.  For the first time in his life, he didn't know how or when this would end; for the first time in his life, he didn't think he wanted it to end.  The parts of him that had learned and grown and become better through years of anxiety and torment knew that maybe, just maybe, he'd found someone he'd want to stay with forever. 

And here he was, trying to finger her in the pool in front of their friends. 

He broke their kiss abruptly, face burning, and yanked his hand out from between her legs.  In his arms, Talia leaned back to take a deep breath.  One hand rose to brush the damp curls from his forehead. 

"Hey," she said quietly.  "You okay?" 

"Yes," he answered truthfully, even if he couldn't explain everything else.  "It's just… you deserve better than this." 

She smiled and kissed the tip of his nose.  "While I admire your notions of propriety, they are a little disruptive when I'm enjoying myself." 

"It's not…"  Cullen turned the words over in his head, trying to think of how to explain just how badly he wanted her alongside how much he wanted to do this right.  "I want that, I do, but I… I didn't picture anything like this."  He made a vague gesture to the pool and their roommates and the party surrounding them.  "You mean more to me than anything so… foolish." 

“I like you a lot too,” she teased, wiggling her suit back into place with a smile.  Quickly she pressed a kiss to his lips.  “I need to cool off, get out, get a drink.  You coming?” 

He snorted.  “I can cool off plenty right here, thank you.”  He would not admit that his erection would be far too obvious and embarrassing for him to get out of the pool just yet. 

To her credit, Talia tried not to laugh.  “Suit yourself.”  She climbed out, providing Cullen an eyeful of her rear end as she sauntered away.  He groaned and shifted to sit on the steps – far away from prying eyes on the patio. 

Sera bounced by out of nowhere a moment later.  “Ice cream, Cully?”   She thrust an enormous vanilla cone at him.  Cullen recoiled. 

“No, thank you, I’m –” 

“Sera, I’ll take it!”  Talia pounced on Sera and snatched the cone, sucking the melting tip into her mouth.  Sera and Cullen both stared.  “Oh Maker, that’s so good.”  She dipped a finger into the ice cream and licked it off.  Cullen felt his face flaming as he watched. 

Sera’s eyes nearly crossed when Talia lapped up a drip running down the cone. 

“Sera, where did you get ice cream?” Cullen stared, mesmerized, as another drip escaped and ran down the cone over her hand.  Talia kept talking, cheerful and totally oblivious.  “I’ve never seen it in the house, and I – oh! That’s cold!”  A drip landed on her cleavage, followed by another.  She craned her neck to look and wiped it up, smiling as she popped the finger into her mouth. 

“I need to go,” Cullen said, standing abruptly.  He absolutely could not watch her like that and not lose his mind.  Maker take him, he couldn’t.  The image of her licking that finger repeated itself like the best possible dream as he yanked the patio door open and hurried inside, desperate to get away before he embarrassed himself. 

“Get a hold of yourself, Rutherford,” he muttered to himself.  He could handle this.  All he needed to do was… When he couldn’t come up with an answer that didn’t involve ripping Talia’s swimsuit off, he groaned and rubbed the back of his neck.  That was all he really wanted to do, there was no arguing with that.  And that he didn’t want to do, not when they had no real privacy to speak of. 

“I am so sick of this show,” he muttered and stormed off to take a cold shower.  That, at least, would put all this nonsense about ice cream and swimsuits and everything else behind him.  For now. 

He’d just stripped off his shorts and turned the shower on when he heard the door to the bathroom open. 

"Cullen… are you in here?"  He cringed at the sound of Talia's voice.  She must have abandoned the poolside barbeque to follow him almost immediately. 

The memory of her sucking that drip of vanilla ice cream off her fingers, that same memory he’d been trying to avoid, overwhelmed him again, sending a bolt of heat straight to his cock.  A groan slipped out, just loud enough to be heard over the spray. 

Shite. 

A moment later, Talia tugged on the shower curtain that separated his stall from the rest of the bathroom.  "Cullen?" 

He ran a hand over his face and tried to think unattractive thoughts.  Dorian in a thong.  Varric’s low-cut shirts.  Anything. "I'm here."  His voice sounded choked even to him. 

"You left really suddenly… are you all right?" 

"Yes, fine," he managed.  Fine as he could be when all he could think about was how good her lips would feel wrapped around his dick instead of her fingers. 

There was a long pause before the shower curtain rustled again.  "Cullen, um… can I come in?" 

He flushed again, shame and want both coursing through him.  Maker, how he wanted her to join him.  It felt like he'd thought of little else lately.

"Cullen?"  She sounded more concerned than before, and with a groan that could have been lust but instead was him kicking himself for always being a gentleman, he ducked out from under the shower. 

"Talia, I --" he began as he opened the curtain.  "Oh." 

She was naked. 

Completely, wonderfully naked, her swimsuit puddled around her feet and a wicked smile on her face.  He could see _everything_ \-- the pale rose of her nipples, the jagged scar across her stomach, the dark hair between her legs -- and she was glorious. 

 "Hi," she said, hands on her hips.  

"Hi," he said, swallowing hard. 

"So," she said, arching her back just enough to push those perfect breasts toward him.  "Can I come in?" 

Taking a deep breath, Cullen pulled the shower curtain open.  Her eyes flickered down to his groin, and she smiled to see him already hard and wanting. 

"Yes," he managed, fighting to stay collected when all he wanted to do was grab her.  It wasn't working.  "Maker's breath, please." 

She stepped in and kissed him roughly, sandwiching his cock against her belly.  Cullen groaned and kissed her back, barely remembering to shut the curtain before he'd grabbed her ass.  Her skin was so hot, her body on fire with the same lust he'd been trying to tamp down.  She backed him up, only to squeal and jump away when the cold water hit her. 

“Fuck! Seriously, Cullen?” She edged backward, arms wrapped protectively around her chest.  “Turn that off!” 

Feeling bold, he cranked the knob toward hot and stepped back under it.  “Come over here and make me.” 

She cocked an eyebrow at him.  “I do like a challenge.”  Against all instinct, Cullen stood, exposed and waiting, until her hands slid up his chest, body warm against his.  He let her back him up into the shower wall, falling against it as the spray drenched them both.  Talia didn't hesitate this time, only kissed him harder as she sucked his tongue into her mouth.  Electricity drove a wild line of pleasure down to his erection, and he groaned. 

"Maker, I worried I'd ruined it," he muttered into their kiss, eyes rolling back as she ground her hips into him. 

She shook her head, breaking the kiss.  "No, never.  I want you so much…"  She trailed off, kissing a line up his jaw to his ear.  "I just didn't know if you wanted the same." 

"If I… Talia."  He caught her face in his hands so he could meet her gaze.  "I want you more than anything in Thedas.  I didn't want to pressure you." 

She smiled.  "I know.  Once I figured out you were just being sweet… it means a lot to me.  You are unlike anyone I have ever met." 

Something in his chest swelled with joy.  "As are you." 

He kissed her gently, her lips parting under his before she pushed to her tiptoes and whispered, "Plus, that ice cream was the perfect opportunity to tease you."  She nipped his earlobe, tongue laving over the flesh. 

Cullen shuddered to think she'd been putting on that show on purpose.  "And the swimsuit?"  He choked out, trying to focus even as her hand slid down his body. 

"Happy accident," she breathed, fingertips rubbing in circles on his hip.  "Cullen, is it okay if I…"  One finger moved lower until it brushed his groin, making him twitch with anticipation. 

"Please," he answered.  "Talia, please touch me."  A low groan left his lips as she wrapped her hand around his length, grip tight and firm and oh so very satisfying. 

"I didn't know we were waiting on me, or I would have followed you in here ages ago," she murmured, pumping him slowly.  Cullen tried not to whimper at the desire in her voice.  They hadn't touched each other so intimately since that night in her bedroom **,** the one moment of true privacy they'd found.

"I'm glad you did," he answered.  He'd never wanted someone like this before, where couldn't think straight when she wore those leggings or snuggled up against him on the couch.  Everything about her was distracting and wonderful, and so he'd locked himself away with the work from the precinct instead of pulling her into the shower with him. 

A mission, thank the Maker, she'd taken upon herself. 

She squeezed him and he moaned, pulled from his thoughts like a man saved from drowning.   With a sly smile, she kissed slowly down his chest, letting his erection go to run her hands along his body.  Cullen closed his eyes and leaned his head against the shower wall, content to let her explore him however she pleased, spirals of arousal making him dizzy with each touch. 

Warmth suddenly enveloped him, there and gone before he could respond.  He shot to standing to find her crouched before him, fingers running in careful circles around his hipbones and those green eyes staring up at him for permission. 

"Talia…" he breathed, watching in awe as her tongue darted out to brush him again. 

"Cullen," she responded with a flick of her eyebrow.  "Is this okay?" 

He couldn't look away.   "I… yes.  If you want to, that is." 

She opened her mouth just enough to let him slide inside.  A long, low moan slipped out as she leaned forward, taking the rest of him slowly until he was surrounded by heat and pleasure like he'd forgotten existed. 

Then she moved back, letting him go to bob in the shower spray.  "Oh, I want to," she said, running a hand along his shaft down to cup his balls.  He tried to suppress a grunt when she squeezed gently.  "I want you so much I can't think straight."   She pressed a hot kiss to his head, a glistening string of pre-come connecting her lips to his cock for a split second before the water rushed it away. 

"Please," he managed, eyes glued to her lips.  She blew him a kiss before dropping her head and sliding her tongue along the underside of his dick.  She kissed her way back up before opening wide, letting wet, glorious heat envelop him.  Her hand caught the base of his cock, pumping him as she pulled back, bathing every inch of him in warmth.  Then she hollowed her cheeks and sucked as she took him in, and he nearly cracked his head on the wall behind him as a lightning bolt shot through his body.

It was everything he'd been trying not to imagine -- her hands digging into his hips as her head bobbed between his legs, pleasure pulsing up his spine until he could barely keep his eyes open to watch.  Her dark hair was plastered against her head, her own eyes closed as his cock stretched those beautiful lips.

He didn't know when he'd closed his eyes, but he forced them open when Talia leaned in so far her nose brushed his groin. 

"Fuck," he hissed.  "That feels so good." 

Just as slowly, she leaned back, letting the suction of her mouth drag along his shaft before planting a wet kiss on his head.  Her hand wrapped around him and pumped slowly as she smiled up at him, squinting a little in the shower spray.  "I want to know what you like," she said softly.  She slid her mouth over him again.  "What gets you off."  And again, that talented tongue ran along his shaft with slick precision. 

Several crass ideas came to mind, amplified by the pleasure between his legs when she sank back down on his cock.  Her mouth was perfection, slick and inviting and just begging him to fuck it.  Maker, how he wanted to, but he'd never be able to vocalize it. 

"A-anything," he managed, fists balled at his sides.  "Anything you want.  I just -- Ahh!"  He gasped, hips bucking involuntarily as she sucked him into the back of her throat again, sending waves of pleasure washing over him.  

"Like that?"  She asked when she slid off. 

"Oh Maker, yes," he whispered, meeting her eyes.  The smile on her face sent an entirely different kind of warmth careening through his chest. 

Breaking eye contact, she took him into her mouth again, her hand still pumping the base of his shaft, and sucked gently as she moved.  Cullen closed his eyes, letting pleasure wash over him as her pace increased, and willed his muscles to relax.  He hadn't received a blow job in years, the experience so old it was like it had never happened.  And with Talia!  The one time they'd done anything, she'd hardly touched him.  Cullen hadn't even cared; he'd been so focused on her that his orgasm took him rather by surprise that night. 

It wasn't anything like this. 

He'd leaned back again, fighting to urge to thrust into her mouth, when her hand found his.  She guided him to put a hand on her head and grabbed his ass, forcing him to standing again.  Then, slowly, she pulled him closer, sending his cock deeper into her mouth.  He let out a cry when he bumped the back of her throat, immediately mourning the loss of her mouth as she leaned back again.    

When he glanced down, he found her green eyes staring, lips smirking around his cock.  She nodded before he could even open his mouth, fingertips resting in her hair, and he knew she trusted him, wanted him.  That was all he needed.

Carefully he guided her down on his cock as he thrust, and Talia groaned around him.  Emboldened, he dug his fingers just a little further into her hair and did it again.  She made another noise, one he might have taken for discomfort except that one hand dropped from his balls to touch between her own legs. 

_Maker's breath._

He took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart.  She felt so good, and he'd been trying to push away everything he wanted to do her, things he didn't think he could do while trapped in this house.  But it was hard to worry too much about that now.

He guided her tenderly, hesitant to pull too hard and force himself down her throat.  Talia, however, was much more enthusiastic than he'd anticipated; every time he half-thrust into her mouth, she slid further down his shaft, hot tongue running along him before she hollowed her cheeks and sucked back up to his tip.  Cullen could barely keep up as he tried to stop worrying he was hurting her.  He trusted her; if he did something she didn't like, she would tell him. 

She bobbed faster on him, his hands barely keeping up where they rested on her head, but his body knew what he wanted; his hips rocked, splitting her lips further as she took him.  Saliva streamed from the corners of her mouth, eyes closed against the spray of the shower, but she never stopped, never hesitated.  Nothing in his life had ever been like this. 

His head fell back when she wrapped her other hand around the base of his shaft, pumping fast in time with her mouth moving on him.  Abruptly she leaned in, taking as much of him as possible into her mouth, and he moaned far too loudly for this semi-private bathroom.  He felt more than heard her groan in response and wondered what she was thinking about as she sucked him off, what she was imagining as she rolled her clit under her fingers.  The possibilities, endless though they were, inevitably came back to his own desire to feel her legs wrapped around him, his prick deep inside her body as he fucked her senseless. 

The mental image of what she'd look like as she came sent a flush of heat through his groin.  His balls tightened up against his body, a whispered "Maker yes" escaping his mouth.  This was so far beyond anything he'd imagined, anything he'd let himself wish for, and the sudden realization that there was nothing shameful about this when it was with her brought the edge of the cliff he'd been climbing rushing to meet him. He tugged her hair harder than strictly necessary, trying to warn her off before he blew his load in her mouth. 

She groaned instead, a low vibration that rumbled through his lower body, and bobbed faster, sucked harder.  Suddenly he was half bent over her, one hand buried in her hair and one braced against the shower wall as he fucked her mouth in earnest.  That tell-tale squeeze in his groin tightened. 

"Andraste preserve me, I'm so close," he gasped as pleasure shot through his body, every muscle tense and tight. Unaware of how her fingers dug into his hip, he fought down the rising heat in his gut, wanting this to last longer, wanting her to come too, wanting to pin her down and fuck her and --

With a hoarse cry of her name, Cullen thrust hard into her mouth as his climax roared through him.  His hips spasmed as he emptied himself, eyes clenched shut.  Some distant part of himself realized he'd grabbed her head as he came, holding her tight as pleasure pulsed through his body, but he didn't care.  Judging from the vibration of her moaning around him, neither did Talia. 

When at last his orgasm ebbed, leaving him still hard but fading, he leaned against the wall of the shower.  For just a moment, he wasn't sure he could hold himself up. 

Still on her knees, Talia studied him.  One hand still rested between her legs, fingers drawing idle circles as she caught his eye.  He watched, fascinated, as she drew in a sharper breath, muscles playing along her toned abs, and a shiver ran through her. 

_Maker's breath_ , how he wanted her. 

She stood to meet him as he moved, and Cullen slid a hand between her legs before anything else, eager to feel her slick heat and know it was all desire for him.  Still it surprised him to find her soaked and wanting, but Talia pulled him tight against her, letting him pin her to the shower wall.  Her fingers dug into his back, his ass, her mouth open under his as he kissed her hard, a full frontal assault on her pleasure after the mess she'd made of him.

His fingers found her clit almost before he'd realized, rubbing more roughly than he'd intended.  Pinned between him and the wall, Talia groaned and tried to wrap one leg around his hip, opening her for his seeking fingers and inadvertently pressing his flaccid prick into her entrance.  It twitched with interest, barely recovered and already he felt that same lust rising in his stomach again. 

 He let his hand slide along her mound, slicking his fingers with her arousal before sinking two inside her.  Talia arched against him, cries muffled by their kiss, and he broke away to fall to his knees. 

Fingers still thrusting gently, he stared up at her.  Water ran off her nipples, those perfect breasts just begging him to kiss and taste and worship.  Time, he had time, and more than anything, he wanted to pleasure her like he'd been imagining. 

"Don't you dare ask if this is okay," she said before he could open his mouth.  "I want you so bad, please Cullen."  The corner of his mouth tugged up.  Of course he'd been about to ask.

He brushed his thumb over her clit and watched, fascinated, as she sucked in a breath, eyes rolling up.  "You're beautiful," he said softly, repeating the motion.  "So beautiful."  He moved his thumb a little faster, loving how she squirmed against his touch.  "I could watch you like this forever." 

She bounced her hips a little.  "I feel like you might," she murmured, a teasing lilt to her voice that was offset by the intensity in her eyes. 

He didn't know what to say to that, didn't know how to give voice to the bubble rising in his chest or the sudden urge to hug her close and tell her how much he cared about her.  Instead he leaned in, puffed a hot breath against her clit, and then dodged up to nip her hipbone. 

She squealed. 

Before she could recover, he pressed forward and licked a long, rough stripe up her slit, letting his tongue just slip between her folds so he could taste her.  With a groan, she rolled her hips forward, and he met her, reveling in her warmth.  Gradually he slid his fingers from her and ran his thumb over her clit again, his other hand tight to her hip as he plunged his tongue inside her.

He couldn't quite taste her how he wanted, the water neither had bothered to turn off still pouring down and slicking her body under his touch.  But he could feel her heat, her desire, as he spread her folds and pressed his tongue deeper.  Above him, Talia cried out and grabbed the tile wall for purchase.  Maker, she was wet, more musky and less water the deeper he delved, and he curled his tongue inside her, wanting to make her feel as overwhelmed with pleasure as she'd made him. 

Carefully he rubbed his nose against her clit, knowing it was enough to tease and not satisfy.  Her channel spasmed around his probing tongue anyway, her accompanying cry making his eyes roll back with how much he wanted to stand and bury his once again throbbing erection inside her.  There would be time for that, someday, time enough for him to make love to her how she deserved instead of some quick fuck in the shower.  Time for them to share that together.  

He pulled back, pressing a kiss to the top of her sopping slit.  "Come here," he said, sure she could barely hear him over the shower.  Mimicking her earlier gesture, he placed her hand on top of his head.  Her fingers twined into his hair, pulling just enough to send a rush of pleasure to his groin.  He leaned in, feeling her fingers tight on his skull, and licked another long, slow line up her core. 

"Maker, Cullen," she hissed, hips bucking.  He chuckled and brushed one hand up the inside of her leg, feeling her flinch away as it tickled.  "What--"  

"Spread your legs," he instructed.  He guided her hips as she did, lowering her body closer to his seeking tongue.  "Perfect."  Above him, Talia tugged gently on his hair. 

"Please," she whispered, words nearly lost to the spray of the shower.  "Please." 

"Patience," he said, knowing she could see the smile on his face and loving that frustrated noise she made.  Ignoring how she played with his hair, he ran both hands slowly up her legs until he reached the apex of her thighs.  She was trembling with anticipation, her arousal just visible on her lips, and he brushed eager fingers over her core before following their path with his tongue. 

Just as quickly, he pulled back, and she whined.  "You're such a tease." 

He rested his thumb over her clit and lightly rubbed.  "I'd be insulted if I didn't think you liked it." 

"I do, I just -- Ah!"  Her hips bucked again as he leaned in and threaded his tongue through her folds.  This time he didn't hesitate, lips seeking her warmth as he pleasured her.  Maker, but she tasted fantastic, everything he'd been denying both of them finally manifested in this cramped shower stall. 

With his thumbs, he spread her open and leaned back, letting the spray of the shower run over her as he met her gaze.  Water ran down her face, one eye squinted shut against its force, but she was smiling.  She slid the hand from his hair down to cup his jaw. 

"Maybe I should come down there and fuck you," she said huskily, bending to catch his mouth in a heated kiss.  He groaned into it, feeling warmth flood the hand trapped between her legs.  He wanted that, he'd be a fool not to, but he wanted to feel her come around his fingers, taste her orgasm, everything he hadn't done that first night together. 

"No," he managed as he broke the kiss.  For a second, something akin to hurt flashed across her face.  "Not that I don't want to," he added swiftly, kissing her again before she could lean back.  He laid a hand on her hip, pressing her firmly against the shower wall so she couldn't move.  "Right now, I want to taste you." 

The confusion vanished, replaced with wide-eyed lust.  "I want you to." 

Cullen didn't answer, just flicked the tip of his tongue over her clit. Above him, she gasped and twisted her fingers into his hair.  Encouraged, he slid a probing finger into her entrance as he locked his lips onto her body and sucked. 

The noise that left her lungs was beyond obscene, and he felt one hand knot itself in his hair even as she clapped her other hand over her mouth.  They couldn't get caught, not now when he finally had her bare and open before him, not when he'd just learned how sweet she tasted and how her hips moved when he thrust his fingers inside her. 

Maker, he'd do this every day if she'd let him. 

The urge to jack himself off nearly overwhelmed him as he crooked his fingers inside her, finding that rough spot that made her gasp.  She was moaning in earnest now, the hand over her mouth doing little to silence her cries, and Cullen wanted nothing more than to share that pleasure with her.  In an attempt to distract himself, he slid his hand up her body, fingers pulling roughly at her nipples, and tried to ignore how that sent a fresh wave of arousal dripping over his eager tongue. 

He tried not to think about how good she'd feel wrapped around his cock, how warm and tight and wet she'd be if he stood up and sank himself inside her.  It didn't stop his imaginings -- how she'd take him deep and beg him to fuck her and cry out over and over as he pinned her to the tile wall.  It was a losing battle; he couldn't resist how hard he was. 

This time, when she rolled her hips against his mouth, fingers buried in his hair, he let his hand slip away and down to grasp his dick.  Perhaps it was selfish; perhaps he should have been thinking more about her.  But the opportunity was irresistible, the chance to taste and pleasure her and still satisfy the ache once again pulsing between his own legs.  He gave himself several firm pumps, groaning into her body as it did little to alleviate his desire, only pushed it higher. 

"Oh Maker, do that again," she gasped, her other hand dropping to hold his head tight to her body.  For a moment, he wasn't sure what he meant.  He must have made a quizzical noise right into her cunt, and she gasped again. 

"Yes, that, please Cullen!"  Andraste take him, she meant the vibrations spreading from his mouth as he jacked himself off to the sweet taste of her body. 

He'd never been so happy in his life to continue. 

Ignoring how his instincts told him to stay quiet, Cullen moaned and groaned and hummed his own pleasure as he sucked her clit, fingers still working inside her to bring her to the brink.  Between his legs, his hand tightened on his cock with each breath, each pump taking him just a little bit further. 

He'd been paying more attention to her pleasure than his own, relishing the taste of her desire and the squeeze of her body around his fingers, that he wasn't close enough to join her when Talia finally tipped over the edge.  Her fingers wound into his hair, keeping his mouth locked on her cunt as he kept her going, wave after wave of pleasure that he'd brought her.

It was with great reluctance that he let himself go, but he had to; he could feel her legs shaking as she tried to hold herself up, and he was worried she might slip if he didn't catch her.  The tension between his thighs didn't abate as he eased her down into his lap, feeling her every muscle relax against his body as she wrapped herself around him. 

"That was amazing," she whispered, lips brushing his ear.  He shivered, mind immediately returning to where those lips had been.  Maker, he wanted her all over again. 

She seemed to come back to herself enough to realize, and one hand drifted down between them to brush his erection.  Cullen bit back a groan.

"You don't need to do that," he managed, reaching to pull her touch away, but she didn't let him. 

"I want to," she said quietly, kissing his jaw.  "Let me?"  For the space of a heartbeat, he considered saying no.  He'd come once already; it should have been enough.  But Void take his selfish desires, he still wanted her. 

Nodding shakily against her, he felt her hand tighten around him, seeking a way to grip him without moving away.  If anything, she wiggled closer, and he inhaled sharply when he felt the heat of her core suddenly pressed tight against his balls and the base of his cock as she straddled him. 

"I'm not hurting you, am I?"

"No, no," he managed.  "Maker, no, I… it's good." 

She leaned her forehead against his temple and tightened her grip, seeking the pressure he needed as she pumped his cock.  "You can feel what you do to me," she whispered.  "How hot you make me.  How much I want you, even though I just came." 

"Talia…"  He was already getting close again, that same precipice he'd been approaching as she orgasmed around his seeking tongue and fingers.  Her free hand wound its way through his hair, turning him to meet her lips.  She kissed him slowly, mouth open and warm, leaving him bucking up to meet her grip as she moved her hand faster.  Every muscle in his body tightened, wanting nothing more than to let her touch him for as long as possible.  Then she twisted her wrist just a little as she pumped him, brushed her thumb over his head, and there was no more fighting it.  He groaned into her mouth, letting her carry him to the edge. 

"Come for me," she breathed before she kissed him again, swallowing the desperate sound he made.  "I want to see you come."

His hips jerked up, cock thrusting hard into her fist, and he dug his fingertips into her hips as he tried to hold back, tried to last, and lost.  Forcing his eyes open, he watched as she arched her back just in time for Cullen to see the first splash of his seed paint her chest. 

"Oh,” he got out as his mouth hung open, eyes glued to his jerking cock and the water already rushing his spend away.  Pleasure raced through him, subdued but no less intense than his first orgasm with her lips wrapped around his cock.  Instead, he watched as she let him mark her, claim her, as his heart pounded with each pulse of come that spurted onto her skin.  

When at last the feeling faded, Cullen slowly came back to himself, warm and contented with Talia in his arms and the shower still pouring down over them.  Her forehead rested against his, her eyes closed.  He tightened his arms around her, pulling her closer until water squelched between their chests. 

"Please don't let me wake up and find this was all a dream," he murmured.  Talia huffed a laugh, warm breath mingling with his before she kissed him sweetly. 

"If it is," she whispered back.  "It's a good dream."  She kissed him again, one hand cupped around his jaw and anchoring him here with her and nowhere else.  His forehead pressed against hers, eyes drifting closed.  For once, he was content with this moment, his beleaguered mind not trying to run away to some complicated, impossible scenario that would pull them apart.  This was it - she was all he needed, relaxed in his arms and happy.  Maker, he loved her. 

The realization crept through him like a long day heading into night, settling slowly through his chest until it burned low and warm in his heart.  He loved her.  There was no question anymore, no hesitation to think the words as though they were somehow dangerous or misplaced.  Not when she was there with him, not when he had never felt like this before, not when he could look forward with ease and never see a moment without her. 

"Talia?"  He said it quietly, not sure what would come out of his mouth next. 

She stirred in his arms.  "Yeah?" 

"When the show is over…"  He didn’t know how to ask her to stay.

"We’ll figure it out, Cullen," she whispered, eyes still closed. “I know we will.”  He felt her take a deep, wavering breath before she leaned away.  "We should actually shower before the water gets cold." 

They washed each other playfully, Talia running soapy hands over his back and arse until Cullen overturned his shampoo in her hair.  He worked careful fingers through the dark strands, enjoying how her mouth hung open the slightest bit when he scratched her scalp.  She tried to return the favor, Cullen bending to give her access to his hair, only to yelp and dart for the curtain, job halfway finished, when the water finally went cold. 

She was wrapped up in a fluffy towel by the time he made his way out of the stall.  Her bright eyes tracked his every movement as he toweled his hair dry and reached for his clothes. 

"Talia?" 

She looked up guiltily from where she'd been studying his legs.  "Yes?" 

"Thank you for this.  For everything really, but especially for this." 

She grinned.  "Thank Dorian, not me." 

"What do you mean?" 

"Using the day without cameras for a party was his idea." 

Cullen studied her.  "And the ice cream?" 

She giggled.  "Also Dorian." 

He laughed.  "I don't know if I should thank him or punch him." 

"Maybe both."  She discarded her towel to pick up her clothes from the bathroom floor.  "Come on.  The cameras are back on soon, and I'd really like to be dressed by then.  Plus Varric is setting up a movie." 

"Oh no.  He'll probably want to watch that bad version of Hard in Hightown." 

Talia shot him a conspiratorial look as she shimmied into her bikini.  "Don't tell him, but I always thought that title sounded like a porno." 

"I'd never," he laughed.  He'd thought the same.

Talia kept going.  "That is assuming he even remembers.  I saw him and Cass leaving the party together when I followed you." 

"Really? I was suspicious before, but... you're sure?" 

"Definitely." 

He smiled.  Being with her really did put him in a better mood.  "Good luck to them, then." 

Talia threw her cover-up on and leaned against him, draping her arms around his neck.  "I hope their escape was as fun as ours." 

Cullen blushed but wrapped his arms around her tight.  "I do as well." 

She kissed him quickly.  "Come on, let's head back." 

"We will.  Just…"  He kissed her again, feeling her lips part under his as he did.  "Stay with me, just a little longer." 

Talia leaned her forehead to his.  "I'd love to, Cullen." 

  


	23. Chapter 23

**Week Ten: Confessionals**

Iron Bull: The Meathead

_The booth has finally been expanded to accommodate Bull’s horns, so he makes an extra effort to bump them as he sits down.  One wall nearly falls over, to his delight.  He grins at the camera, flexing his muscles while someone asks him what he thinks about the end of the show._

Sure, it’s great we’re almost done, but more important, Dorian finally talked to me.  I didn’t realize the cameras had to be off for him to gather some fucking courage, but whatever it takes, I guess.  _(Off camera, someone chastises him. Bull looks puzzled.)_ Seriously, you can’t just bleep that out? _(He shrugs)._   I’m grateful he agreed to be exclusive – it wasn’t just a word to me.  Although I did have to give it to him pretty good to make up for talking about his ‘feelings.’ _(He gives ‘feelings’ air quotes along with a dangerously elaborate eye roll.  The same someone points out that no one uses air quotes anymore.  Bull scowls.)_ What, really?  What the fuck kind of boring-ass place is Orlais?

 

Cassandra: The Hard Ass

_Cassandra does not look happy to yet again be in the booth, not that this is a change of pace._

I will absolutely not share what happened with the cameras off.  Not a chance.  _(Silence.)_   Although Varric… No.  _(She stops herself.  Another silence, before the interviewer mentions that Varric must not be as sweet as they were all hoping.  Cassandra levels a deadly glare at the camera.)_   You will not trick me into talking with that foolish tactic, so don’t bother.  _(There is another long silence while she stares the interviewer down, practically daring them to talk.  Finally they sigh and ask a question about Talia and Cullen)._ I said no.  If they want to sneak off, it is their business.  Not yours, and not Thedas’.  _(She crosses her arms.)_ As is Varric’s poetry, not that that matters. 

 

Dorian: The Fabulous One

_To everyone’s surprise, Dorian’s hair looks a bit ruffled for the interviews today, and he has a love bite on his neck.  His smile, however, is as perfect as ever._  

 

I suppose you want to know all about my feelings… how madly in love Bull and I are and all that.  Well I hate to disappoint, but I don’t quite love the great lout.   _(There is a muffled cough, which may be the interviewer calling ‘bullshit.’ The audience will never know.)_  Believe what you like, I know myself, and I am not in love with him.  Care about him, appreciate him, perhaps, and certainly enjoy him, but not love.   _(He gives the camera a conspiratorial smile.)_  I must say, it was worth it to talk about whatever feelings I may have -- after, we had just the most amazing sex.  I’ve never had an orgasm quite like it.  At one point, one of my legs was bent back so far, he was -- _(Dorian is interrupted by the interviewer, who loudly points out that anything graphic or explicit cannot be used on the show.  Dorian leans in with a smirk.)_  Well, aren’t you kids in for a treat! And poor Thedas, to be so left out!

 

Sera: The Prankster

 

_Sera looks much more cheerful this week.  Perhaps the upcoming end of the show, plus the promise of a date this weekend, is helping.  Or perhaps she’s found a new way to terrorize Vivienne._

 

I don’t know how Miss Frou-Frou’s eyeball cucumbers ended up in the pool.  Or how her face cream got dumped in her laundry.  It’s a mystery.   _(The grin on her face suggests that, just maybe, it is not so mysterious.)_  No cameras equals fun! Like Cully and Tali -- all sneaking off to be “alone” _(She drags this word like a child and makes a disgusted face.)_ and do gross lovey things.  All smooches and stuff.   _(She tilts her head at the camera, suddenly suspicious.)_  Why do you want to know?

\---

Week 10 started out normally enough. 

Dorian and Vivienne exchanged dirty looks as they washed their faces with two jars of identical, expensive cleanser.  Bull lifted in the gym before destroying the kitchen in a quest for the best Seheron omelet in Orlais.  Sera helped, which primarily consisted of juggling eggs before Bull smashed them into the pan. 

Varric wrote.  Blackwall did too, though his papers joined a pile of grey envelopes at the bottom of his suitcase.  Cassandra and Cullen went for a run.  Cassandra returned to stretch and take a shower, while Cullen joined Talia in the kitchen, where she was drinking a cup of coffee and supervising the ongoing mess.  Cullen accepted a plate of eggs and peppers from Bull before nestling himself in beside Talia. 

If he watched her eat a banana a little more closely than usual, that was the only difference in their routines. 

Then the doorbell rang. 

An egg plummeted to its doom on the tile when Sera failed to catch it in her surprise.

Talia paused with her cup halfway to her lips.  “We have a doorbell?”

“Apparently so,” Cullen said dryly as it rang again.  Bull nearly impaled Cullen on a horn as he whipped around to look. 

“Well, what are we waiting for?”  He tossed his plate in the sink and vanished down the hall toward the front door.  Sera bounced after him. 

    Cullen merely rolled his eyes and continued eating his eggs.  Beside him, Talia smiled.  They chatted aimlessly for a while, enjoying another of so few mornings left in the house.  It would be over soon – two weeks, that’s all, and they would be thrown back into the real world.  Neither of them had pushed for what happened next – neither knew. 

And today would not be the day they figured it out, as they’d been sitting for less than ten minutes when Dorian swooped into the kitchen.  “Join us in the living room?” 

Talia gestured with her coffee.  “In a minute.” 

“Trust me, darling,” Dorian said, stepping over to pry her fingers off the mug.  “Now.” 

She and Cullen exchanged confused looks as they followed Dorian down the hall. 

The entire house was gathered – Varric and Cassandra wedged into an armchair, Sera perched on the back of the couch while Blackwall and Iron Bull lounged below.  Even Vivienne was seated primly on a chair in the back.  No one even glanced up with Cullen and Talia walked in, and it was obvious why. 

Three people stood in the center of the room – three people none of them had expected to see before they were officially out of the house: The show’s producers. 

The lawyer, Solas, looked the same as always: Cool grey suit, green tie.  His hands were clasped behind his back.  Beside him, Josephine was giving the room a too-bright smile, its radiance nearly as blinding as her golden dress.  Just behind them stood Leliana, this time in slacks and a dark shirt, her attention fixed on the phone in her hand as she typed. 

There was no question she saw them come in. 

Talia eyed them carefully as she followed Cullen into the room.  She hadn’t seen Josephine and Solas since Cullen’s stay in the hospital, and Maker knew she didn’t harbor any warm fuzzy feelings for either of them.

Talia tugged on Cullen’s arm.  When he glanced back, she whispered, “Sit far away.”  He chuckled and led the way to the furthest seat he could find, pulling her down beside him.   She leaned into him, trying to figure out why she felt vaguely uncomfortable when she caught Leliana studying them.  Her bright eyes flicked back and forth between herself and Cullen before they locked with Talia’s.  

Leliana’s expression didn’t change, but Talia could have sworn she saw her smile.  

The producer turned to her colleagues then, breaking eye contact, and said something.  At the front of the room, Josephine clapped her hands for attention.  

“Good morning, everyone,” she began.  “You’re probably all wondering why we’re here. As I’m sure you are aware, the show ends in a little over two weeks…” 

Talia tried to pay attention, really she did, but she couldn’t stay focused.  Two weeks.  It just wasn’t that long, not in the grand scheme of things, and there was so much more she wanted to do before they all said goodbye.  Sometimes she felt like a teenager with a crush – she just couldn’t take her eyes off Cullen, no matter how silly it felt when he caught her staring. 

And that naïve little crush didn’t care that they had no idea what was coming next, didn’t care that there was a continent and all its worries between them – she just wanted to snuggle up next to him, trace her fingers over his chest as they talked, and feel him kiss her temple as she fell asleep.  Was that really so much to ask?

She glanced over at him before she could stop herself.  He was listening carefully, the same focused attention on their producers as he devoted to everything else.  A shiver ran down her spine as she remembered the last time she’d been pierced under that focus – his fingers inside her, his mouth on her body, his every breath dedicated to her pleasure. 

Of course she wanted to keep him around after the show.  The man had a talented tongue, she'd give him that. 

_And a lot more_ , her brain reminded her, and she fought down a smile and lost. 

She studied his profile, watching his eyes shift between speakers and the slight frown that twisted his lips.  Even with the producers’ invasion, his face was peaceful, no dug-in lines around his mouth and nose like she'd been seeing since that Maker-damned envelope showed up at the house.  The commitment to his work both impressed and worried her -- she'd never been one to sacrifice her personal life for her job, but Cullen clearly carried a determination to his work like no one she'd ever met. 

Certainly he wasn't coasting through life like she did, unsure what she wanted to do and lacking any sense of 'calling' to help guide her. 

But that same dedication was worrisome too.  She'd witnessed Cassandra express that same concern early on and wondered how seriously the Seeker meant it, but it was clearly well-founded.  Would that be an issue, someday?  When their lives were no longer absorbed by the show, when they had to go back into the real world and learn to function with a continent between them… would his devotion to his job overwhelm their fledging romance? 

Perhaps.  But perhaps not - Talia knew she would be more than happy to ditch work to spend time with him.  Getting herself across the Waking Sea might be harder, of course, but that was a challenge she was willing to overcome. 

Without warning, Cullen slid an arm around her and pulled her close.  Talia almost startled, tuning back in just in time to hear Josephine finish up her speech. 

“We’ll be taking you into the dining room one by one to debrief and review all your individual contracts and provisions.  Please wait here.” 

Talia straightened up abruptly.  “Wait what?” 

Solas turned cool eyes toward her.  “We need you all to wait in this room until you are called for your interviews.” 

Sera piped up, “So we can’t leave?” 

The lawyer lifted his chin.  “What exactly is unclear about this?” 

“Are the cameras still on?” Dorian asked quickly before Sera could get a word in.

“As always, yes,” Leliana answered. 

Varric sat back and crossed his arms.  “So, what, you want us to hang out here with our thumbs up our asses?” 

Solas cocked an eyebrow.  “If you like, go right ahead.  It will hardly be the most boring thing thus captured.”  He turned away, pale hands once again folded behind his back.  “Blackwall, you’ll be first.” 

The group exchanged concerned looks.  No one moved. 

“Please, Gordon,” Josephine said quietly.  Blackwall slowly stood and followed her down the hall. 

Leliana cast her sharp glance around the room once more.  “We will send for the next person in due time,” she announced, and she too walked out. 

\---

The living room was quiet as they waited.  One by one, they filtered out as they were called.  No one returned, as though they’d vanished into the gloom overhanging the house.  Eventually, only Talia, Cullen, and Vivienne were left, and none were anxious for any kind of sparkling conversation. 

At last, Josephine stepped into the room.  “Cullen?”  He stood, extricating himself from the chair where they’d been sitting, and kissed the top of Talia’s head. 

“I’ll be back soon,” he assured her, though she couldn’t deny the gallows imagery of watching him walk away. 

To her surprise, however, Talia realized that Josephine was gesturing for her to join them.  “Talia, you should come as well,” she encouraged when she didn’t move. 

“I thought you said this was individual.”  

Josephine’s mouth settled into a line.  “I appreciate your concern for Cullen’s privacy,” she began.

Cullen interrupted her. “I don’t mind.”

 Talia gave him a look, but he just nodded.  With a sigh, she got up and followed them down the hallway. 

Leliana tapped at her phone, glancing up when they entered, but Solas gave a barely noticeable sigh and sifted through the pages sitting before him.  They sat awkwardly next to each other, the enormous table separating them from the producers.  Under the table, Talia found Cullen’s hand. 

“We’ll review the provisions and waivers to begin,” Solas began.  “Mr. Rutherford, we’ll need to discuss your service weapon first, as that remains the highest priority for safety.”  Cullen nodded.  “Where is it?” 

“Locked in the safe, clean and unloaded.” Cullen answered without hesitation, but Talia couldn’t help feeling like her stomach had dropped out.  He had a gun?  Here, in the house?

Solas continued in a monotone, pen poised to make notes.  “Has there been any circumstance to remove said weapon from the safe?”   

“I removed it once with Harding’s supervision to go to the shooting range with Cassandra,” Cullen answered.  “Otherwise, it has not been touched.  As per my contract, if such a situation had occurred, I would have reported it immediately.” 

Solas made a note. “Do you expect any issue in the remaining days?” 

“I do not.” Under the table, he squeezed her hand.  Talia yanked it away like she’d been burned.  “I never did,” he added, and with a glance at Talia, he shifted to address her.  “It was a request from Aveline, my captain.  She asks that all her officers carry an off-duty weapon at all times. The show was no exception.” 

“Cassandra has one as well,” Josephine added.  Talia had no doubts that her tone was meant to be soothing, but she couldn’t have found it less so.

“We requested the safe ourselves,” Cullen continued.  “Both of us know that not everyone is comfortable around guns.”  Talia nodded, feeling nauseated.  She hated guns. 

Solas looked satisfied.  “Moving on,” he announced, and Leliana tucked her phone away to address them. 

“Talia, per the non-disclosure you signed, you have rights to the show’s story once it has finished airing,” she stated.  Talia nodded.  It had been her only request once she found out she couldn’t bring her dog: That she be allowed to write about the show once it was over.  It was partly for the money, but also for the necessary protection of their story – someone else might’ve gotten it wrong. 

Given everything that had happened, Maker, was she ever glad she’d gotten it in writing. 

“Your contract depends on your confidentiality between the end of filming and the air date of the last episode.  Please make sure you are aware of the finale’s date prior to publishing anything.”  She handed Talia a piece of paper that said the same in legalese.  Talia signed it and handed it back, rolling her eyes at the redundancy – she’d already signed something just like it at the beginning of the show.  She didn’t notice Cullen looking vaguely uncomfortable beside her.

Formalities completed, Josephine cleared her throat.  “The last thing we’d like to cover is the end of the show itself,” she said.  “We are hoping for it to be as dramatic as possible, which will increase viewership and boost ratings.  As such, we have a request for the two of you.” 

They glanced at each other.  “Okay…” Talia said. 

Josephine gave them a sweet if superficial smile.  “We’d like Cullen to propose.” 

Cullen blinked.  “Maker’s breath, you want me to what?”  Beside him Talia sat dumbstruck before she started laughing. 

“That’s cute guys, you got us!”  Cullen shot her an alarmed look, which just made her laugh harder.  “No seriously, what?” 

Josephine was still smiling, but the edges barely moved as she spoke.  “We’d like him to propose. We’ll provide everything – the ring, flowers, whatever you’d like.”  Talia’s giggles fluttered to a halt. 

“What?” 

Solas brushed some imaginary lint from his tie.  “Or you could dump him.”  He gave them a cold smile.  “We aren’t picky.” 

Talia felt her mouth hanging open, but it was like it was happening to someone else.  “That’s insane.” 

Josephine sighed. “No, it’s drama.  The show needs an exciting conclusion, and you are in the perfect position to deliver it.” 

Cullen frowned.  “You are of course aware that this is a reality show?” 

“And you are of course aware that that is utterly meaningless?” Solas mimicked cruelly. Whatever irritation Talia had harbored toward the lawyer increased tenfold.  “We are interested in ratings and ad sales, nothing more.” 

Talia leaned back and crossed her arms.  “Then aren’t you disappointed we’ve all been so uncooperative?  I know for a fact you’ve had to censor Bull and Dorian.” 

Solas arched an eyebrow at her.  “Nothing of the sort.  From the first, we chose you for your potential conflicts, and it’s worked perfectly.” 

“I’m sorry to harp on this point, but what,” said Cullen.

“Well…” Josephine began, but Leliana cut her off. 

“Oh come now, you two are more than intelligent enough to see it,” she snapped.  “You can’t honestly believe we didn’t have a hand in some things?  Cullen, you and Cassandra have obvious control issues with each other, only exacerbated by the show.  Bull and Dorian have racial tensions that boil over into sex, which is always great for ratings.  You and Bull have a shared military history which appeals to the 30-49 male demographic.  Vivienne and Dorian obviously clash, Blackwall hates Dorian too, so they formed an easy if unlikely alliance, which gives viewers sides to root for.  Talia gets along with almost everyone, which is a calm point for audiences who might otherwise change the channel.  None of that was reality.” 

Talia glared.  “Our actions are, then.”  Solas snorted.  Josephine gave him a dirty, tight-lipped look. 

“Some of it was, yes,” she hedged.  “We couldn’t have imagined, for example, that you and Cullen would enjoy each other so much.” 

Leliana just smirked.  “But even then, did you really think that everything fit so naturally?  You’ve been surrounded by people to push you together.  Blackwall misses his girlfriend back home, Cassandra wants Cullen to be happier, and Vivienne would do just about anything if we turned off the cameras for a bit and left her alone.  All of them have encouraged you, at one point or another.”

“Everything was far too easy to arrange,” Solas added.  “It has created unbelievable results from the 18-49 female demographic.”

A long silence hung between the groups as Talia and Cullen struggled to understand.  Finally, Talia spoke.  “So… now you want what, a fairy-tale ending?” 

“Or a tragedy,” Leliana suggested. 

Josephine was the only one who looked even slightly sympathetic.  “It doesn’t have to be real,” she said gently. 

To Talia’s surprise, Solas nodded.  “A reunion at the finale, for example, would be excellent for ratings.” 

Talia had barely opened her mouth to retort when Cullen snapped, “I won’t do it.” They all turned to look at him.  Cullen hesitated for the briefest of seconds before he added, “Either one, I mean.” 

“I’m not sure you are the one with the power here,” Leliana said, gesturing toward Talia. 

“I won’t do it either,” Talia snapped.  “You all can go fuck yourselves.  Maybe that will give you the drama you want so badly.” 

Leliana stared at her, but Talia didn’t budge.  “As you wish, Ms. Trevelyan,” she said, waving her hand toward the door.  “You both are free to go.  Enjoy your remaining time in Skyhold.” 

Cullen was up and out the door immediately.  Talia followed slowly, convinced Leliana was laughing at her somehow.  They’d said no, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that they’d given the producer exactly what she wanted.

As they walked through the shadowed halls on the far side of the house, Cullen was fuming.  “How can they even _think_ that I would do something like that?”  It wasn’t the first time in their walk he’d muttered it, but it was the first time that Talia felt she could respond.

“Cullen,” she said softly.  “It’s okay.”

To her surprise, he spun and grabbed her arms.  “It is not,” he growled. 

Her eyebrows shot up.  “Hey, there’s no reason to freak out.”  She squeezed his hand where he’d locked it around her arm.  

“I’m not freaking out,” he said, but his hands stayed tight.  

“Maybe a little.”  

Something in her face must have worried him, for he swallowed and loosened his grip.  “Apologies.”  He shook his head and abruptly dropped his hands, taking a step back.  “It’s just… I cannot lose you.”  

There was ferocity underlying his voice Talia didn’t think she’d heard before, not even in the hospital.  “I’m right here,” she said, trying to keep her voice calm.  “They can’t make me go anywhere.”

“I know,” he relented.  He was holding himself back, like he wanted to step back in and pull her into his arms.  With a deep breath, he visibly calmed himself down.  “I know.  I’m just… if you want to do that, we can.”

Talia huffed a laugh.  “I don’t want you to propose.  It’s been like a month, everyone would know it was fake.”  When he didn’t reply, Talia’s heart dropped.  “It would be fake, right?”  

Cullen gave her a smirk and a flick of his eyebrows.  This time she laughed out loud. 

“You’re such a jerk, stop messing with me.”  He leaned over, relaxed again after that nightmare of a meeting, and tucked his arm around her.  

“You’re right, it is fun to tease.”  He kissed the top of her head as they started back toward the living room.  

Talia punched his arm playfully.  “If we ever get there, trust me, you’ll know.”  

He grinned at her.  “Maker, I hope so.”   She watched the lovely way the corners of his eyes crinkled as he leaned down to kiss her.  In a thousand repeats, she didn’t think she’d ever tire of how his hand slid along her jaw as he pulled her closer or the perpetual stubble that rasped against her skin when she kissed him back.  It was almost overwhelming how much she --

She pulled back abruptly.  “Wait, what do you hope?” 

Creeping red replaced the surprise on his face, and he looked suddenly uncomfortable.  “That we… that is, that I…”  He gave her a sheepish smile.  “What do you want me to say?”  

Talia stared at him.  “Are you serious?”  She took a step back, distancing herself just enough from the warmth of his arms.  “Do you really think about that, already?  That we could end up… married?” 

“Um,” he said, shuffling where he stood.  “I don’t know. Maybe?” 

“Cullen, what the fuck?”  The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them.  “It’s been like a month.” 

He met her eyes and nodded.  “I am aware.  It’s just…”  With a sigh, he rubbed at the back of his neck. “I’ve never felt anything like this before.”  

Talia heard the words coming out of his mouth, but she was almost certain he was speaking Tevene.  She could only stare and wonder what the hell he was talking about.

Cullen seemed to sense this, and cautiously stepped forward to run his hands along her arms.  “I’m not trying to push you, Talia,” he said, voice low.  “I care about you, and… I’ve spent too much of my life alone.  I don’t want to regret something now.” 

Talia still stared at him, mouth open.  “That’s a lot to put on me.” 

He frowned.  “What do you mean?” 

“I mean, we just learned that this entire show is manipulated,” she said, brushing his hands away.  “They’ve basically been throwing us at each other, and now you’re all like, ‘I care’ and ‘no regrets,’ and in my experience, that means you’re about to say or do something that will seriously fuck up our relationship.”  

Cullen folded his arms across his chest.  “And what would that be, exactly?” 

Talia rolled her eyes.  “I don’t know, say you love me or something stupid like that.”  Cullen didn’t reply.  And didn’t reply.  And didn’t reply until the silence hanging between them was too long and heavy for her to avoid anymore.  “Oh, Andraste’s tits.” 

“Talia…”  

“Nope,” she said, backing away with her hands up.  “No. Just no.  Look, I do not want to break up, even a fake one, but you cannot tell me you haven’t had doubts about this.”  

His mouth twitched but his voice was steady.  “None.” 

“Bullshit.”  She spit it out, knowing it was rude but unable to keep it to herself.  “That’s such bullshit! You don’t ever wonder if maybe this isn’t smart, us getting together? We live a continent away from each other, I’ve held like six crappy jobs, you have a fucking gun and didn’t tell me... there are obvious issues. You can’t tell me you haven’t doubted us getting involved.”  

That pushed him far enough.  “Of course I did, I’m not a fool!”

Talia hadn’t really expected him to agree, but there was a sick satisfaction in making him mad. She leaned back and crossed her arms.  “Yet after a month, you love me.” 

He flinched -- just the tiniest bit before he schooled his expression into something more neutral -- but Talia saw it and couldn’t let it go.  

“You’re just being stubborn and ignoring all the problems, aren’t you?”  He didn’t answer, sending frustration flooding through her.  “We’re on a _reality_ _show_ , Cullen!  They’ve been pulling our puppet strings for weeks, months! How in Thedas do you know it’s real?” 

Red flooded his cheeks, but he stood his ground.  “I just do.” 

She shook her head.  “That’s not an answer.”  He didn’t reply, and she pushed harder.  “What if it’s just…. Flashy lights and cameras and nothing else? Just that we’re two unattached people who happened to be attracted to each other?”

“It’s not that simple,” he insisted.

“You can’t know that! Those producers just told us they did everything they could to create drama! To get ratings!”

His face twisted.  “Is that what you did,” he demanded, jaw tight.  “Said you loved me just to get ratings?

Talia jerked back.  “What?”

He continued, though his voice trembled.  “That first night we stayed together… you said you were falling in love with me.”

“You heard me?” Disbelief washed over her, followed swiftly by boiling anger.  “And you didn’t say anything?”

“I… didn’t know if you meant it.”

She could clearly remember the urge to tell him she loved him, remembered how it welled up and almost overwhelmed her, remembered how she barely fought it down until she was so sure he was asleep.  But that he hadn’t been asleep, that he’d heard her and refused to tell her, holding it back like something he wanted to keep secret…. For some reason, it hurt more than she’d ever thought it could.

“And now?” She bit the words out, throwing them at him like that could make it better.

He opened his mouth to answer before closing it and looking away.  “I still don’t.”

“Cullen…” For just a moment, he looked so lost she almost apologized.  Her voice softened.  “You can’t hold me to some ridiculous midnight confession.  It was late, we’d been fooling around… anyone would have felt like that, and that’s exactly what worries me.  What I feel could be anything.”

She watched his expression crumble until there was no mask, no wall, just resignation.  “So you don’t…”  He closed his eyes, lips pressed into a line as he tried to pull himself back together.  When he met her gaze again, the wall was back up.  “I refuse to believe it.”

“Believe whatever you want,” she snapped, crossing her arms.  She refused to look at him, refused to give him the satisfaction, refused to admit that maybe, just maybe, she was wrong.

Then she saw it: the camera blinking merrily away behind him, recording every last word they’d said.

Cullen was not amused when she started laughing.  “You know, we’re just giving them what they want,” she said as the realization swept over her.  How had she screwed this up so badly?

“What?”

Talia pointed over his shoulder.  “This is the drama they asked for, like it or not.”

He glanced at the camera.  When he turned back, his eyes and cheeks were red, almost like he was fighting back tears.  Or the urge to scream.  “I’m not worried about the show,” he said quietly.

Talia rolled her eyes.  “You’re always worried about the show.”

“No, Talia.”  He stepped closer, reaching to cup her elbow.  “Right now, I’m not worried about the show.  You are more important to me.”  She twisted out of his grasp.

“What do you want from me, Cullen?”

For a split second, she thought he might lean in to kiss her.  “I want to know how you feel.  About me.”

She stared at him.  “After all that… they’ve basically been throwing us at each other this whole time, and… that’s what you want to know?”

He didn’t waver.  “Yes.”

With a sigh, Talia ran a hand through her hair and grabbed a chunk.  She pulled, just enough to burn, and let the pain ground her a little.  It helped.

“Why,” she finally asked, voice flat.

Surprise flickered over his face before he got control of it again.  “Because the circumstance doesn’t matter.  I know how I feel.”

“You’re wrong,” she said, more force behind her words than she’d intended. “Circumstance is everything.  You can’t force someone to fall in love.”

Stepping closer, he brushed a fingertip along her cheekbone before gently pulling her hand from her tangled hair.  “I never said you could.”  He cupped her hand between both of his, running his fingers along hers before he finally looked up to meet her eyes.  “But is that…”

It almost physically hurt, but she wrenched her hand free.  “I don’t know.”  The words were quiet, whispered, like a heavy package eased to the ground – and it was that admission more than anything that broke her.  “Maker’s fucking breath, Cullen, I don’t know! Why isn’t that okay?”  She pulled away until her back hit the wall, sending her curling in on herself.

Hurt rippled across his face.  “How can you not know?”

Hot tears pricked her eyes as she shook her head.  “I just don’t.”

“Or is it…”  She looked up in time to see him swallow hard and stare at the ceiling as he tried to gather his words.  “Is it that you feel nothing for me?”

“What?  Cullen, no, don’t be stupid, I just…”  She searched for what to say, something that might ease the scratch of his voice, but she could only wipe the sudden tears from her cheeks.  No matter how scared he sounded, she still couldn’t get the idea out of her head.  “I do care about you, I just… I’m sorry.”  Angrily she wiped away another tear.  “I don’t have a good answer.”

Cullen stood motionless for a long moment before he took a step back and dragged a hand down his face.  It was blotchy and red under the stubble.

“Cullen…” she tried though she didn’t know what to say.

He didn’t say anything, only shook his head and walked away.

\---

For the first time in weeks, Talia went to bed alone.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for past abuse, car accidents, angst, and some serious present self-loathing and depression. Apologies if I forgot anything.

Blackwall was the first to notice there was a problem, though he really didn’t want to.  The less he knew, the better. 

Talia stood at the kitchen counter that morning, studying her coffee as she stirred in sugar.  She didn’t talk, not even a hello to her housemates.  This in itself wasn’t too strange -- everyone knew by now that Talia Trevelyan was not a morning person -- so he could write off the staring a little too intensely as ‘still mostly asleep.’

But there was no mistaking the terror on her face when Cullen walked into the kitchen.  

He’d been chatting with Dorian -- a surprise in itself -- but he too froze when he saw Talia.  

She turned and walked out without a word, leaving the mug still steaming on the counter.  

\---

Dorian was obviously the one to notice next.  Talia was barely out of sight when he rounded on the man beside him.  

“Cullen,” he said seriously.  “What was that?” 

Cullen had the decency to look sheepish.  “We… had a fight.”

Dorian narrowed his eyes.  “A fight.” 

“Yes.”  He shifted his weight.  “Couples have those.” 

Dorian stared at him a moment long before the lightbulb turned on.  “Don’t _tell_ me you bought into that producer bullshit about breaking up for a ‘dramatic conclusion’.”  

“Maker’s breath, no!”  He paused, ears going pink.  Dorian tried to maintain a serious expression befitting the situation even as Cullen’s mouth dropped open until he looked a bit like a drunk fish.  A huff of laughter might have escaped. 

 “Wait, they… they asked everyone?”  

Dorian shrugged and crossed his arms.  “Of course.  Drama is drama, my lovely Templar.”  

Too stunned to correct him, Cullen simply stared.  “Maker’s breath, I should have guessed.” 

“Mmmyes, you should have.” He swung an arm around the taller man’s shoulders.  “Now, tell me everything.” 

To his surprise, Cullen recoiled.  “Absolutely not.”  He brushed Dorian’s arm off and stepped away.  “That’s between Talia and I.” 

He pouted.  “I can help, you know.”  

“We’ve had quite enough of everyone’s help,” Cullen snapped.  He looked torn for a moment, like perhaps he wanted to get in Dorian’s face but also maybe burst into tears.   Then he sighed and ran a hand through his hair and down his scruffy face.  “I… don’t really want to talk about it, Dorian.”  

With a weak attempt at a smile, Cullen left.  Dorian pondered this development for a moment -- talking about it had never been a problem with Talia.  It was more getting her to stop. 

But to each their own, he shrugged.  With a flourish, he picked up Talia’s leftover coffee mug, swirled it briefly, and took a sip.  

“Too sweet,” he decided, and he dumped it down the sink.  

\---

Sera was minding her own business, juggling apples and some extremely expensive nail polish Vivienne had been shouting about when Talia came crashing around the corner.   Not the good kind of crashing though, like finally landing a cartwheel or laughing with Widdle, but the bad kind, like the time she tried to slackline and broke her arm when she fell off.  

She managed to save the nail polish, but the apples went tumbling to the ground.  “Cully’s gonna be all annoyed those are bruised,” she announced as she scurried about trying to gather them back up.  If she lost her momentum now, she’d forget.  “I’m tellin’ him it’s all your fault.” 

Talia stared at her.  She was far too still, not bouncy, why wasn’t she bouncy today? “That’s fine Sera,” she answered, her voice low.  “Everything else is my fault anyway.” 

Cully! What’s he done now? Sera popped back up and cocked her head.  “What! What’s he blaming you for?”

Talia waved her off.  “We got in a fight.  It’s legit my fault though, no need to steal his stuff.”  

“I wasn’t gonna do that,” Sera grumbled.  She shoved the nail polish into her pocket before Talia could see.  “Need any help?  We could talk ‘nd stuff.” 

Talia smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes.  They were too sad for this, like drinking too much blueberry wine and waking up to missing socks. “I’m okay, but thanks.”  

“You’re not okay,” Sera told her.  Talia made a face.

“I know.”  

“So… let’s fix it!” It was that easy - whatever was wrong, fix it, and then things were better again.  “I can sit on him while you talk!”

“Sera, seriously, I don’t want to talk right now.”  

“Come on!” She extended an apple. “He likes these, it’ll help. I can shove one in 'is mouth and he'll shut it.”  

Talia just rolled her eyes and walked away.  Sera considered this news for a while.  Now she wasn’t feeling bouncy anymore either.  

\---

Talia stormed away from Sera without a plan for where she was going.  It was too much, this pressure to smile and be the calm one and have every single person in the house wondering what had happened between herself and Cullen.  It was too much to have the entirety of Thedas wondering too, even if it would take a few weeks when the show caught up to their lives. 

She had never regretted the decision to join this stupid show as much as she did right now.  

The decorated walls and long staircases of Skyhold passed in a blur of paintings and golden filigree until she found herself in a place she hadn’t quite expected -- the library.  Too many uncomfortable memories lingered in this room, all centered around one conversation almost two months ago.  All centered around a man she’d been hesitant about from the start, not just because of him but because of herself.  

She’d had reservations about Cullen the more she’d learned about him at first: the Templar past, the prejudice, the lyrium.  Over time, those reservations had morphed into ones that were so much more trivial: They were on camera all the time, which made things awkward.  They lived far away from each other, which was more an excuse than anything else.  They didn’t have every single thing in common, like, oh, just about everyone she’d ever met.  Everything else had fallen into place. 

Now she was left with the uncomfortable truth that she’d accepted everything about Cullen, maybe even loved some things about him, but she still hadn’t been able to accept everything about herself.  

Her steps led her to the same maroon armchair she’d first claimed to read _The Tale of the Champion_ , the spot where she’d listened and decided to give Cullen another chance.  He deserved it -- not to be judged by the worst moments of his life but to atone and be made new again by his actions, his choices, his decision to be a better person than he’d been before.  

She knew about trying to be better, even if she never admitted it.  Her life had never been easy, and far too often, she’d pushed someone away before anything real could grow.  

She didn’t always know how to explain it - the cool indifference that settled into her bones on some days, the stark horror of what had happened to her lost behind a haze of half-formed memories she didn’t acknowledge.  It had always been far easier to remind herself that hey, her childhood had been shit, but she didn’t live that life anymore.  Her family didn’t matter anymore.  She didn’t have to hide anymore. 

Everything got pushed away so she didn’t have to feel it anymore.  

The plush velvet drew her in as she sank into the chair, fingers drawing patterns in the grain.  Cullen had worn a shirt just this color on their first date -- she remembered running her hands along his shoulders and playing with the buttons while they danced.  It had been a disaster of a night, all told; it was hard to remember just how lovely a date had been when it ended up with someone in the hospital.  She’d been so scared that day and many after, scared she’d look up and he’d be gone, and they’d never get the chance she so desperately wanted them to have.  

Now, like then, she could look up to find him gone, and this time she would have no one to blame but herself.  

How in Thedas could she have been so wrong? So cruel, to shove what he felt in his face and force him away instead of clinging tight and never letting go.  

Talia pushed herself out of the chair, fingers scratching at her scalp as she tried to think through their argument.  In those moments, she’d been so sure they had been manipulated.  She only saw Leliana’s smirk and the coldness of Solas’ suggestion -- not Cullen sitting with her late at night talking about his mom, not the scavenger hunt, not the smile on his face when he woke her up after their first night together.  All of that was real and wonderful, and she didn’t know how she ever could have doubted. 

With a dry laugh, she let her feet guide her to the window overlooking the estate.  She knew exactly why she’d doubted; that was all she ever did. 

She leaned against the window, breath fogging briefly on the glass.  Outside, in the summer sunshine, Sera, Blackwall, and Iron Bull were playing shuffleboard of all things, while Cassandra and Varric relaxed nearby and chatted.  If she squinted, she could see Vivienne walking through the gardens on the other side of the estate.  Dorian lounged poolside, enormous sunglasses in place as he soaked up the growing warmth of the day.  Everything looked so normal, so like what her life should have been instead of the disaster it actually was. 

Something almost like jealousy flooded through her when Cassandra leaned over to kiss Varric, a smile gracing the Seeker’s face when she pulled away.  Talia watched and couldn’t help thinking about all the people she’d kissed in her life - boys she’d teased all those years in the Tower, Templars she’d bribed not to arrest her, strings of vapid relationships all doomed to failure not because of them, but because of her.  

She didn’t want Cullen to be like them.  He deserved better. 

It didn’t matter what her life should have been like.  Once it might have, but that future had died on a rainy night when she was twelve, a night she never let herself think about, a night she never told anyone about, a night she blamed for everything since even if she could never say it aloud.  

She had to tell him.  She’d been hiding behind this for far too long, blaming her life for her own refusal to let someone in.  It wouldn’t excuse the things she’d said, but Maker knew it could show just how much she trusted him.  That much she could admit.  

Still, she hesitated, lingering by the window watching her friends enjoy a peaceful afternoon and wondering how in the world she was going to apologize for all the things she’d done.  

\---

Cullen threw another punch against the bag, a sick satisfaction sinking through him when the impact vibrated through his bones.  He did it again, and again, and again, and dutifully ignored how the pain did little to alleviate the roiling in his stomach. 

Logically, he knew he’d been this angry before.  After Kinloch, he’d been blinded by it, so angry that he couldn’t stop himself from spewing it to anyone who would listen.  All mages left in that Maker-forsaken tower should be destroyed, he’d told his superiors. Leave none alive. 

After they’d tried to help, he’d left, angry enough to join the most conservative, fear-mongering Templars in Thedas.  Angry enough to turn a blind eye to Stannard’s ways, to see only the darkness he wanted to see.  Too angry to see the monster he was becoming.  

When that had finally been enough, and he’d realized it, he left.  

In every moment, or at least he told himself, he’d had something to direct his anger toward, someone to be angry _at_.  

This time, he had no one to blame but himself.  

He peeled the tape off his hands, yanking it harder than necessary to rip it from his skin.  It fluttered to the floor behind him.  He squared off with the punching bag again, wishing it was an opponent, wishing it could punch back, anything to get his mind off his own stupidity.  

This time he flung punches until his knuckles split, until the bag was spattered with blood, until he finally, _finally_ , felt something inside him break enough to let him stop.  

Chest heaving, he stepped back and surveyed his handiwork.  Noting absently that he would need to wipe down the mat, he punched the bag one more time, sending it spinning on its chain.  Maker, sometimes he missed being at the precinct.  At least there, someone would have stopped him before he made a mess. 

He wiped his face with the tail end of his shirt and sank down against the wall.  His hands hurt.  His head hurt.  Everything hurt, and there was so little he could do to stop it.

The fight played over and over in his mind.  The punching bag helped -- the force of his fists and the accompanying pain was at least a distraction -- but the second he stopped, everything came roaring back full force.  

The conversation with the producers had been bad enough.  The lawyer, Solas, had the deadest smile he’d ever seen, so cold and heartless as he’d suggested Talia dump him without the slightest thought for what that would do to him.  Josephine was trying to help, trying to ease their worry, but it hadn’t helped either, especially not when Leliana piled on about all the things they’d done to manipulate just about every aspect of the show.  

Maybe Talia was right.  Maybe he should be more worried about whether or not they were compatible, or if it mattered that the producers had practically forced them together.  

As much as he tried, he couldn’t convince himself that was true.  

Even if it was, he didn’t think it mattered now -- not when he was sitting exhausted, blood dripping idly from his knuckles, and a woman he’d grown to love somewhere in the house, alone.  

He studied his hands where they hung off his knees.  He’d split the scars from his stay in the hospital.  It was hard to believe that had only been a month before, just a few days from that first time he’d kissed her.  Talia had been so understanding and supportive, despite how overwhelmed she must have felt. 

It made sense it wouldn’t last - it never lasted, not for him.  He didn’t know why he was surprised. 

Maybe because for the first time, he’d been hopeful that it would last. He’d never met anyone quite like Talia, who smiled at him when he was uncomfortable, read to him when he was sick, washed the blood from his hands when he hurt too much to do it himself.  

If she were here now, she’d probably roll her eyes at him and go get a washcloth to clean him up.   

Cullen barked out a dry laugh and ran his bloody hands over his face.  That was insanely foolish - Talia would do no such thing, not now.  She’d effectively said as much when she said it was all too much to put on her.

He should have known that too.  Everything about his life was too much to put on another person.

Maybe he should have just lied and said no and been done with it. She’d probably been joking when she’d asked if he really thought they were going to end up married someday.  If he’d been smarter, or more confident, he would have laughed it off and said he was just happy to be with her now -- that was true, after all, and they’d come far enough as it was.  If he’d done that, he probably wouldn’t be here now, bleeding and depressed. 

It would have been dishonest though, and he didn’t know which was better.  No matter what either of them said now, there was always the chance that later they’d fall in love or break up or both.  

He shouldn’t have pushed.  He was right back where he’d started, alone, and he should have known better than to hope.  

The thought didn’t stop the dark buzz of anger in his head, nor the cold ache in his chest that he’d somehow lost what was so important to him, even for just a while.  

Pushing himself to his feet, he grabbed a rag and spray bottle to wipe down the mat.  The disinfectant stung the cuts on his hands until the flesh was red and swollen, making him grimace with the last few swipes.  When he was done, he tossed the rag in the trash and headed for the bathrooms. 

It was just his luck that he passed Talia on her way down the stairs.  She glanced up, not quite registering who he was as she picked at her nails, but her vacant expression cleared quickly.  

“Cullen,” she said, surprised.  “Hi.” 

“Talia,” he greeted her. He didn’t know what to say.

“Um.”  She didn’t finish, just let the word hang between them as she looked anywhere but at his face.  Just as he was about to walk away, _again_ , she grabbed his hand.  “You’re bleeding.” 

“I uh. Yes,” he answered.  Gentle fingers cradled his, careful to avoid the injuries.  He wanted to pull away, but her touch was too tempting to resist.  

She stared at him, eyebrows knit with worry.  “What happened?” 

“Punching bag,” he said by way of explanation, and the cloud that settled over her face said she understood everything he wasn’t saying.  

“Cullen,” she sighed.  “You shouldn’t do things like that.”  

“I was… frustrated,” he supplied, knowing it wasn’t a good answer.  

“Oh. I’m…” The apology hovered on her tongue but didn’t quite make it.  Instead, she gave him a small smile.  “Can I help?”

“Oh,” he said.  Someday he would learn to articulate, but it was not today.  “No, I’m fine.” 

Her expression faltered.  “It doesn’t look fine.”  She squeezed his hand, just enough to remind him she was holding it.  

“You don’t have to do that,” he said, pulling his hand away.  

Hurt settled into the lines of her face.  “Do what?”

“Take care of me.”  

For a long moment, she just stared at him, mouth opening and closing like she’d thought of something to say before deciding against it.  Then, with a nod almost to herself, she spoke. 

“Cullen.  Just because we had a fight doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.”  

His head hurt too much to do this.  “Isn’t that what the fight was about?”  

She sighed.  “Yeah, I guess, but that’s not… It’s more complicated than that.”  

He stared at her, trying his damndest to stay angry.  The ache in his chest was starting to outweigh how pissed off he was -- at her and at himself.  

“I…”  He didn’t want to fight, not again, and he didn’t want to talk either.  But he also didn’t want her to leave, to stop touching him, to walk away without some indication that she cared.  Pathetic though it was, that desire won out.  “All right.”

That tiny smile was back. “Did you wash it out yet?”  He shook his head.  “Okay then, come on.” 

The hallways of Skyhold stood dark and empty as they walked.  Laughter echoed through the house, probably from some excitement or game outside, but all of it felt so foreign when it wasn’t shared with the woman in front of him.  She never once glanced back as she led the way.  He couldn’t tell if it hurt that she knew him well enough to know he’d follow. 

By some blessing of the Maker, the bathrooms were empty, and Talia flipped the lock as the door swung shut behind them.  He didn’t quite know what to make of that; all he could hope for now was that she wouldn’t make this uncomfortable. 

To her credit, she didn’t.  She led him to the sink, ran the water until it was warm enough not to shock, and carefully rinsed out the cuts across his knuckles.  Cullen stood silently, letting her work and wondering if he had anything to say to her.  He hadn’t by the end of their fight, only enough control left to turn and walk out.  In the days since, he’d thought of a hundred things to say in response, a thousand ways he could have made things better, but he hadn’t come close to figuring out what to say when she was once again in front of him.  

Luckily, Talia took that responsibility from him.  “I didn’t want to talk with a camera watching us,” she began.  She grabbed the soap and worked it into a lather.  It stung as she cleaned the blood away, the foam turning pink as she worked.  “I’m not as brave as you, I guess.” 

Cullen tried not to flinch.  “I’m… not sure what that means.”  

Her eyes met his for a moment before she looked away.  “Did I ever tell you about my family?” 

He paused, trying to remember what she’d told him of her life growing up in Ostwick.  Her family was nobility, her father Ewan Trevelyan a famous lawyer known for his conservative views about mages long before Meredith Stannard rose to power.  But that he’d known from her name alone; Talia herself had only told him that she had five siblings, four still alive and one who had died when she was young.  He knew she was close enough to Will, her twin, but beyond that… he realized with more than a little guilt that he didn’t even know her other siblings’ names.  

“No,” he said softly.  “No, I don’t know much about them.”  She looked up again, eyes clouded, and nodded.

“I didn’t think I had.”  Rinsing off his hand, she lathered up to wash the next cut.  “There were six of us, all boys except me.  I was my father’s favorite growing up, even though I was almost ten years younger than Nathaniel, the oldest.  Nate never liked that, but it didn’t matter much, he was the heir and all, so he didn’t worry.  But when I was 12…” 

She hesitated, hands stilling against Cullen’s.  She hesitated, and he suddenly understood just how hard this was for her to say, that something in her life had gone horribly wrong and despite everything, she trusted him enough to tell him.  He meant that much to her, at least. 

With a deep breath, she pushed on.  “When I was 12, my father tried to re-write his will.  He wanted to leave half his estate to me.  It was a gesture I didn’t really understand at the time - what does that kind of money mean to a child?  But Nate… he was furious.  The family name went to him by birth, but it wasn’t enough, so he… he and Thomas allied against me.” 

She shook her head with a hollow laugh.  “I know that sounds melodramatic, but that’s the best way to describe what they did.”  Cullen nodded.  “They… Thomas was two years older than me, and none of us knew that he was a mage.  He didn’t tell anyone, didn’t obviously manifest or anything.  Nate must have known, but my father didn’t, so they… they tricked him into believing it was me.  That I was a mage.”

This time when she looked up, she kept going under her head was tilted back, eyes fixed on the ceiling.  He realized too late she was trying not to cry.  “He disowned me on the spot.  My mother called the Templars herself.  The Ostwick Tower sent Henry, who was in Templar training.  He’d always been my favorite brother -- taught me how to ride horses and played pranks with Will and I when we were little.  He had a huge fight with my parents, but he couldn’t stop them.  I remember…”  She took a deep, shaky breath.  “I remember how he and Nate screamed at each other when Nate drove me to the Tower.  He’d tied me up, tossed me in the backseat, and I couldn’t…” 

A long silence hung over them as she paused and wiped her eyes.  Cullen let her pat his hand dry, watched her run slow fingertips over his skin, as he waited.  

“We went off the road,” she said abruptly.  “It was late and storming, and Nate was pissed off, and we… we went off the road.”  

Cullen knew where her story was going long before she got there, but it didn’t stop the quiet “oh Maker” from slipping through his lips. He’d known she lost a brother in an accident, but he’d never suspected it was like this.  Hearing her voice break washed away everything else -- the argument, the anger, the uncertainty between them.  He squeezed her hand just enough to remind her he was there.  Fight or not, she was not alone. 

“Henry wasn’t wearing a seatbelt,” she continued eventually.  “He went through the windshield.  Nate hit his head, but he was buckled in, and I was too.  I managed to get the belt undone and tried to climb out a broken window.  He… grabbed me by the ankle and pulled me back.  The glass shredded my arm.”  With her free hand, she brushed her shoulder, the one covered in slashing scars.   “When the paramedics came, Nate refused to let them treat me.  He said… they shouldn’t waste their resources, to let the Templars at the Tower do it.” 

She took another careful breath.  “It didn’t change anything.  Losing Henry… it was like Nate blamed me, that somehow I caused the whole thing.  He dumped me at the Tower that night and never came back.” 

Abruptly she dropped his hand, leaving his skin cold.  With almost detached curiosity, Cullen watched her dig through a bathroom cabinet.  Like him, she had lived one day that changed the rest of her life forever, and like him, it influenced everything about her.  Like him, she was still healing. 

He didn’t know if it was enough to erase their fight.  Some deep, cold part of him wanted to shrug her pain off, and ignore it, say he was sorry it happened and all but that didn’t make them okay.  Didn’t make them whole.  Shame coursed through his veins that he could even think it.  The lines in her face were prominent now he knew where to look, and those carefully blank expressions… He knew that pain with aching familiarity.  He couldn’t to push her away and leave her alone with deal with everything now that he started to understand.  They’d fought, but it hadn’t erased everything he felt for her. 

“I spent seven years in the Tower,” she said suddenly, her voice echoing across the bathroom.  “Will was the one who realized I didn’t have a phylactery, so they couldn’t track me if I got out.  He helped me escape.  It… wasn’t pretty.”  She stood from the cabinet, a bandage clutched in her grasp, and put a hand low on her belly.

“The scar,” he said before he could stop himself.  Talia nodded. 

“A vet sewed me up in his basement before I could bleed to death,” she said.  “And he gave Will the idea that I needed a dog, which he of course latched on to.”  A small, fond smile crept across her face.  This time, when she stepped close, Cullen offered her his injured hand without pause.  

She pinched the skin carefully to set a butterfly bandage across the worst of his knuckles.  “After that… we went to college together and got crappy jobs and eventually I ended up in Val Royeaux.  I even use my real name to publish here, but my family has never come looking for me.  I don’t think they care.”  

She finished with the bandage but didn’t drop his hand.  In silence, Cullen stared at their intermingled fingers.  Once, she had given him a second chance, one he probably didn’t deserve.  Maybe now was his chance to prove to her -- and to himself -- that he had grown enough to provide her the same understanding. 

He was strong enough for that.  

Slowly he lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to her fingertips.  “Are you okay?” 

It was a stupid question - she was probably about as okay as he was -- but he couldn’t articulate everything he wanted to ask:  Did she have nightmares? How did she get past being angry and abused? Did she go to a counselor, and what did they want her to do?  Did her friends know, care, worry about her?  How did she end up on a reality show, the only woman he’d ever learned to love opposite him pouring out every evil in her life?  

And did she love him, even if she couldn’t say the words?

“I wasn’t,” she answered, which pushed the swirling questions from his mind.  “Not for a very long time.  Will forced me to get a dog so I wouldn’t be alone, and then a year or two later when he dropped out of school, he forced me to go to a counselor.  She’s the one who taught me to meditate and do yoga instead of drink myself silly.” 

“I’m sorry, Talia,” Cullen said finally.  “I know it is not enough, but I am so sorry.”  He tugged her hands gently, trying to pull her into his arms, but she resisted.  He tried to ignore the pang that shot through his chest. 

“Cullen…” she began softly.  “You have to understand.  I have spent my entire life trying to run from what happened to me.  The people who…” She took a wavering breath, but it didn’t stop the tears that spilled down her face.  “The people who were supposed to love me the most did anything but.  I am better than I was, but… I’m not good at relationships.  Will basically refused to let me shut him out, but everyone else… at one point or another, I’ve pushed them away, and not all of them forgave me.  I don’t… I don’t want to do that to you.” 

Cullen considered this.  How would he have felt if he’d known this about her from the start? Would it have put him off, made him hesitate to talk to her, kiss her, fall in love with her?  In all honesty, he didn’t know - too much had happened since that first day in the house to tell.  But he had trusted her with his own past long before now, and nothing had ever made him regret it.  Even their fight, even the possibility that they wouldn’t make it past the show, had not been enough.  

There were certainly reasons to be careful. She was right about all the potential obstacles in their way.  Cullen just didn’t care about them. 

Maybe they could heal together, two people whose lives had intersected by pure chance at first and then the ridiculous collusion of the show’s producers second.  It might work; it might not.  All Cullen knew was that he wanted to try. 

This time, when he tugged on her hands, Talia let herself fall into his arms.  He wrapped her up tight, feeling her hands bunch in the fabric of his sweaty gym shirt, and let her cry.

“Talia, I...” he began, and hesitated.  He didn’t know what to say next.  I trust you, I care about you, I love you?  I want to be with you more than anything in Thedas?  In the end, he settled on the hope lingering in his chest.  “I understand.  Thank you for telling me.” 

Pulling one hand free to wipe her eyes, she nodded.  “Cullen, I… I totally understand if…”  She hesitated before meeting his eyes.  “If you don’t want to be with me.  After hearing all this, and after what I said to you the other day.  I am sorry I got so mad, but I… I scare easily when things get serious,” she finished, trying to laugh it off.  The fear in her eyes gave her away. 

He rubbed her back before he let his hands drift from her shoulders.  Wide green eyes watched nervously as he unknotted her fingers from his shirt until he could hold them tight.  

“I’m sorry as well,” he answered.  “I pushed, and I shouldn’t have.  I didn’t know what you wanted, if you wanted…”  

“I just want to be with you,” she interrupted.  “That’s all.  I’m sorry I didn’t see that before.”  

Thank the Maker, for once Cullen knew exactly what to say.  “I want to be with you too.  The circumstance of how we got here doesn’t matter.”  

She squeezed his hand. “It doesn’t matter to me either.  It did, and I’m sorry, but I… I can’t see another way we would have met, and…” The first real smile he’d seen in days broke over her face.  “I have trouble imagining my life without you now, even if I don’t know how we fit together out there yet.” 

“We’ll figure it out.”  Stepping closer, he slipped his arms around her again and pulled her close.  

She didn’t hesitate to hug him back, her face pressed into his chest as she nodded.   “I believe you.”


End file.
